


Beyond the Stars

by intjsherlocked



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Is a Gentleman, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romantic Fluff, Senator Reader - Freeform, Shy Female Reader, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, hurt reader, shy reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 55,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25851409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intjsherlocked/pseuds/intjsherlocked
Summary: You have always been a quiet, relatively unnoticed Senator of the Galactic Republic. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a highly distinguished Jedi Master and a General in the wars. It seems like the most impossible of pairings, but after you save each others' lives, you find yourself crossing paths with Obi-Wan more and more frequently. But will it ever evolve into anything beyond a professional friendship?
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader
Comments: 266
Kudos: 514





	1. The Jedi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I had troubles with formatting for the first dozen chapters or so, unfortunately — the paragraph breaks are virtually non-existent. I couldn't get it to fix for the early chapters but eventually the formatting does get spaced out properly! I apologize for the block-like text at the beginning of the story!

You had seen Master Kenobi before during important Senate meetings. It was inevitable; you were the Senator of the planet Myrana - a watery world rich with resources. Obi-Wan Kenobi was a highly esteemed general in the war, always traveling and working where he was needed. With the seemingly infinite conferences and meetings concerning resources, you found that your paths crossed frequently.  
Yes, you had certainly seen him before, but never had you truly noticed him. He was of the Jedi Order, and you respectfully kept your distance. Perhaps if you were more brazen you would have dared speak to him, but you were rather reserved, and preferred to speak only when necessary at the meetings.  
Such as now. You sat attentively at the round table, beside several other Senators of planets plentiful with oil.  
“Myrana stands firmly with the Republic,” you began, addressing Master Windu. “I understand the Jedi Order’s position with the dilemma, and I am also aware of the consequences should Myrana refuse to give the Republic the oil it needs.”  
“But?” Master Windu prompted, his dark eyes understanding that you were not finished.  
“But I’m afraid the mining has been devastating our natural environment. If we continue at our current rate, we’ll obliterate our precious forests within two years,” you said. “Without our forests, my people will perish. Is that not any fate worse than what we face should the Separatists win?”  
At this, the Chancellor stood, his eyebrows creasing. “You’re suggesting that Myrana switch to the side of the Separatists?” he asked. His tone was as diplomatic as ever, but a glint in his eyes made your spine tingle.  
“I make no such claim,” you said. “I am merely explaining my conflict of interests. I regret that I cannot provide the oil you need, but I am willing to stand firmly with the Republic, so long as our output of oil is decreased. Myrana simply cannot maintain its current production.”  
Senator Ikvane - an older Arcona - raised his hand. “Might I speak, Senator Y/L/N?” He didn’t wait for you to respond before continuing onward. “A young female such as yourself might not understand the severity of the war, and-”  
“I am fully aware of the circumstances, Senator Ikvane, and your insult to my comprehension is only a testament to your own close-mindedness in the matter. I have been briefed daily and I have spoken with my people,” you said, your cheeks burning in the assertion.  
“We will resume the discussion after lunch,” Chancellor Palpatine said, his eyes going back and forth between you and the Arcona. “We all need time to think about this.”  
You pushed yourself up from your seat quickly, smoothing your dress downward. The three other Jedi in the room - Master Windu, Master Luminara, and Master Kenobi - took to their feet as well, and whilst murmuring to one another, exited into the hall.  
The cool bathrooms were a welcome relief from the stuffy air of the conference room. You had always detested these talks. It had never been your choice to become a Senator. You had dreamed of becoming a librarian, and creating your own archive of books, but that had changed the day your older sister was murdered and you were left with the burden of leading your planet.  
“Stupid Senator Ikvane,” you said quietly to yourself in the mirror, deriving pleasure from the words. You ran your hands over your scalp gingerly, hoping that soon the talks would be over; the tight braids keeping your hair in place were not particularly pleasant. A splashing of water over your face soothed your nerves, and you finally left the bathroom, resigning yourself to another hour at the least of heated conversation, only to nearly bump into a Jedi rounding the corner. He came to a halt before you could collide, and politely gestured for you to continue in front of him.  
“I’m so sorry, Master Kenobi,” you said, recognizing him. “Excuse me.”  
“Not to worry.” He paused. “You spoke well in there, Senator Y/L/N. I sympathize with you and your planet.”  
“Thank you,” you said graciously, curtseying as was the custom on your planet. “Myrana is certainly facing a difficult situation.”  
“I hope we can come to a consensual resolution by the end of the day,” he said conventionally, walking alongside you back to the conference room.  
“Oh, I hope we can arrive at one long before that,” you said, speaking without thinking. “If I have to spend another hour with Senator Ikvane, I might jump out of the window.”  
As soon as the words had left your mouth you felt heat rush to your face. You idiot, Y/N, you chastised yourself, hoping Master Kenobi hadn’t noticed your acute embarrassment. He’s a Jedi, for stars’ sake! Not your best friend that you vent to!  
But he only laughed. “I was just thinking the same thing,” he said.  
You weren’t quite sure what happened next. One moment, you were feeling excessively relieved that he had laughed along and not scolded you for insulting Senator Ikvane, and the next his face narrowed, as though an unpleasant smell had drifted through.  
“What’s the matter?” you asked instinctively.  
“Something isn’t…” he began, before his eyes widened, and he pushed towards you, his arm extended. An invisible force sent you careening backwards into the wall, just as the sound of blasters fired through the air.  
Dazed, you looked up just as a violent hiss simmered in the air. A vibrant blue - Master Kenobi’s lightsaber! A real Jedi lightsaber! - was swinging towards the laser bullets that were still flying down the hall, deflecting them safely in the opposite direction.  
“Get out of here!” he shouted at you, and the mere fact that the venerable Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi was yelling an order at you was enough to make you jump to your feet. You stumbled over your dress, cursing its length, and sprinted towards the bathrooms, which were the nearest escape from the hallway.  
Before you could reach them, however, someone rounded the corner - a tall Weequay with a massive braid dangling from his head. You gasped, backpedaling, but he was too fast, and grabbed ahold of both of your shoulders.  
“You’ll make a pretty ransom,” he whispered in your ear. You struggled and kicked at him, but he only laughed, roughly spinning you around to push you forward.  
“If I were you, I would let go of the Senator,” a clear voice said behind you. The Weequay whirled back around and swiftly put his knife to your throat. You yelped, pressing backwards away from the blade.  
You supposed this was the first time you really noticed Obi-Wan Kenobi. You had witnessed him many times, and now for the first time conversed with him, just outside the bathrooms… but you had never truly looked at him. And right now, he was a sight to behold. His expression was composed yet terrifying, his tattered brown cloak had been cast aside, and his burning ‘saber illuminated his face in an eerie glow. Despite the fear pulsing in your heart, you couldn’t help but be fascinated.  
This was a Jedi, a real Jedi, like the descriptions your father had told you when you were a child.  
“If you want her, you’re gonna have to cough up some credits,” the Weequay said. “Or else you’ll get to see what her blood looks like.”  
Obi-Wan’s eyes met your own. Your heart hammered. Would he push you with the Force again? Plunge his lightsaber through the Weequay’s heart? Or simply pay the ransom?  
He did none of what you expected. “You will release the Senator,” Master Kenobi said, waving his hand idly through the air.  
The Weequay’s iron grip on you lessened slightly, and you felt some of the blood flow return to your arms. “I… I will…”, he said slowly.  
“Right now, you will gently let go of the Senator, and allow me to bring her to safety,” Master Kenobi elaborated, waving his hand again.  
“I will gently let go of the Senator…” the Weequay said stupidly, removing his hands from your shoulders, “and I will allow you to bring her to safety.”  
You lurched forward, and to your surprise the Jedi reached for you with a steadying hand.  
“Are you alright?” he asked quietly. You nodded mutely.  
“Return to the conference room. It will be safest there. I’ll deal with this one.” He returned his gaze to the Weequay.  
Stunned, you obeyed instantly, making your way back to the conference room. In the moment, you could not believe what had happened - you had seen a Jedi in action, and even been the focus of Master Kenobi’s attention. That was a once-in-a-lifetime event, something you would never see again.  
How very wrong you would be.


	2. Threats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After overhearing a conversation that could prove deadly to Obi-Wan, you intervene. However, your arrival at the Jedi Temple will bring much more than you originally expected.

You did not see Obi-Wan Kenobi again for another month. The bump on your head from your collision with the wall and the plum bruises on your arms were finally fading, proof that your encounter with the rogue pirates infiltrating the Senate building was long behind you. The oil deal was closed, and after more talks of the Clone Wars, a date was finally set for you to return to your planet Myrana.   
In fact, the prospect of going home drove everything else from your mind, and the Jedi Order did not even cross your mind for days. It was a thing of the past - an exciting event that you could tell your brother when you returned, but no more.   
And so, the day of your scheduled departure from Coruscant, the whisper of the name “Kenobi” behind you was startling. You were sitting in a small diner with your friend Ojia, a Twi’lek you had met through connections in the Senate, meeting her for lunch before you were to leave for the ten hour journey back to Myrana.  
“It’s perfectly unacceptable!” Ojia was saying. “The corruption of the currency is evident, and yet no one has even brought it up, let alone formulated a plan on how to address it-”  
“Hang on,” you interrupted. “I want to hear something.”  
“I’ve almost gotten to my point!”  
“Just one minute,” you pleaded, straining to hear the conversation from behind you. It was difficult to make out, but fortunately whoever was speaking wasn’t the most talented of whisperers.   
“Maul said he’d give me triple the amount of credits I usually get for a job.”  
“That’s still not a good enough deal. Breaking into the Jedi Temple? That ain’t no bounty hunter run. That’s gotta be at least ten times our usual deal.”  
“Kenobi’s quarters are on the east side. We take a speeder up there, tack on a bomb, and then we’re done, easy as that.”  
The other man snorted. “You’re dumb as a crater. Jedi get tingly senses, I’ve heard. They’ll know you’re comin’.”  
“Not if I’m quick. They don’t call me Wind Legs for nothin’.”  
“Fine.” The whispers lowered even more. “But this is a good bomb I’m givin’ ya. I expect half of your payment, no less. And you’ve gotta ask Maul for more credits, too, because I ain’t dying on behalf of an assassination on Kenobi. He’s not worth it to me.”  
You paled considerably. Ojia was squinting at you, mouthing “Who’s Kenobi?” but you shook your head. A few minutes later, the two men that had been sitting behind you paid, got up, and left the diner.   
“How do I contact the Jedi Order?” you asked. “They must have a holocom we can contact.”  
“How would I know?”   
You shivered; the diner felt too cold now. “But I don’t have a way to communicate with them. We’d need their contact information.”  
“Inform the Senate,” Ojia suggested.  
“That might take too long. It’ll have to be communicated through several departments before they finally trust my tip and inform the Jedi Order. Kriff!” you said, getting up and throwing a few credits on the table. “I’m leaving.”  
Ojia stood, bewildered. “Where are you going?”  
“To the Jedi Temple,” you said, feeling lightheaded at the thought. “Immediately.”  
“But your flight home is in a few hours!”  
“I’ll be quick.” You paused. “Can I borrow your speeder?”

You had seen the Jedi Temple from far away, but it was deceptively colossal when you stood at its steps. Every bone in your body was screaming trepidation - after all, this was the home of the Jedi, and you had absolutely no right to be here. Yet you forced yourself to hurry up its steps and approach the door nervously.   
The guard, a young man with a buzz cut and a long, thin braid over his shoulder acknowledged you. “How may I help you?” he asked, his tone even and polite, just like the voice of every Jedi you had ever heard speak. You looked at your feet, abashed to be standing here amongst so many Force sensitive beings.   
“I have an urgent message to deliver to Master Kenobi,” you said, still afraid to make direct eye contact with the guard and only glancing up out of meek respect. “Or to anyone, really. There’s a threat to Master Kenobi’s life.” You stumbled over your words in your unease and only blushed more.   
“And you are…?” the guard asked.   
“Y/N Y/L/N, sir.”  
He appraised you and seemed to sense your desperation, and lifted his wrist to his mouth. “Master Secura? I have a Senator here who says there’s a threat for Master Kenobi.”  
You could faintly hear the response. “Thank you, Padawan. Let her in.”  
Five minutes later you had been brought to Jedi Master Aayla Secura, who bowed deeply to you. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Senator?”  
“I’ve overheard two male humans in a diner, Master. They’re going to bomb the Temple, right outside Master Kenobi’s quarters.” You had never felt more uncomfortable in your life. The presence of so many Jedi was intimidating at the very least and you wanted nothing more than to hide where they couldn’t see you.  
“And how do you know this threat is real?”  
“Well…” You hesitated. The name “Maul'' had been familiar to you, but only because you had read through some books and archives recently that had been sealed off to the Republic. You doubted that the Jedi would have jurisdiction over you for the simple act of downloading some books and histories to your datapad, but still…  
After weighing your options you said carefully, “They mentioned a name who hired them. Maul. I’ve heard his name before, and I suspected that his involvement made the situation more serious.”  
Master Secura’s face darkened at the name. “You were right to come here, Senator,” she said. “I will contact Master Kenobi at once.”

You were left to wait in the grand foyer of the Temple while the situation was addressed. You sat, your posture immaculate, and attempted to at least blend in somewhat with the rest of the Jedi milling about. Even though your dress was modest - it was pure white, and collared at the top, with sleeves going down to your wrists - you still felt out of place against the cream and brown robes everyone else wore. You occupied yourself with listening to the passing conversations that drifted through the echoing hall as Padawans and Knights walked by.   
“I’m gonna whip you today,” a young male Togruta was saying to his friend. “Master Yoda finally let us use the training ‘sabers instead of the wooden swords! Have you gotten to use a training ‘saber yet?”  
“I’ve been assigned to Rodia for a month. I’ll be returning with specimen for the research, if everything goes to plan.”  
“For stars’ sake! I told you today was laundry day! It’s as though you want to wear bloodstained robes!”  
“I’d hurry to the cafeteria, if I were you. They’re serving breadroot patties today.”  
“Padawan, mind your thoughts. I’d advise you to think ill of me only once you’ve harnessed your shielding.” This was followed by an embarrassed, “Yes, master.”  
You were so distracted and entertained by these tidbits of conversation that you almost didn’t notice the person who arrived on your left. You jumped, standing up so quickly that your vision darkened for a moment.   
“Master Kenobi! Were you… has the threat been addressed?”  
“Just in time, actually.” His voice was smoother than you remembered. “In fact, we caught the bounty hunter just as he was about to make his escape. Had you not overheard his conversation, Senator, I’m afraid that I would be blown into several pieces at this point.”  
“It was my duty, Master Kenobi. I simply overheard his conversation and felt it prudent to inform the Temple as soon as I could.”  
“Most others would have contacted the Senate rather than come here directly,” he said, walking forward with his hands tucked into his sleeves. You followed, unsure of whether he was lecturing you or not for entering the sacred Jedi Temple. To be safe, an apology would be best, you decided.   
“I’m sorry for my rash decision,” you said. “Had I been thinking more clearly, I would have sent a message, or perhaps stayed outside the Temple - I did not mean to intrude as I so recklessly have.”  
He seemed surprised. “You certainly don’t need to apologize, Senator. I deeply admire your decision.”  
Relief warmed through you. “I feared that the Senate would live up to their notoriously sluggish communication, and that it would be too late by the time they contacted you,” you admitted.  
Master Kenobi laughed. “‘Sluggish’. That is likely the most accurate term I have heard yet to describe the Senate.” He stopped and looked at you gravely. “Not many would have done what you did for me. I owe you my life.”  
“If I might contradict you, you have no debt to me.” you said politely, dipping your head. “I was merely returning the favor. You saved my own life a month ago, during the oil discussions, Master Kenobi, and I ought to be the one thanking you profusely.”  
“Call me Obi-Wan, Senator,” he said, smiling. “If we’re going to be even, then you don’t need to use such a formal address.”  
“Then I must insist that you call me Y/N,” you said. “But I never did properly thank you for what you did for me. If not for you, I’d be dead.” You shuddered at the memory of the Weequay’s grip on you. “Or worse.”  
Obi-Wan beckoned you on. “I want to make it up to you. Allow me to give you a tour of the Temple. It’s the least I can do.”  
The offer was so tempting - a lowly Senator like you, with the opportunity to have a personal tour of the Temple with Obi-Wan Kenobi. But your flight back to Myrana… although, you realized, you had been gone for many weeks, and another day couldn’t hurt.   
“I’d be honored.” 

“Which would you rather see first? The Archives or the Room of a Thousand Fountains?”  
You gaped at him. “I’d be crazy to not say the Room of a Thousand Fountains.”  
Obi-Wan led you down a hallway to your left. “Of course, but you’ll be taken aback, I think, by the Archives.”   
“Is it a room of filing cabinets?” you inquired. “Though, I suppose I’ll be impressed all the same. I have yet to be disappointed by anything concerning the Jedi Order.”  
“It’s much more than filing cabinets,” he said. “And as to your second statement… I remember thinking the same, when I was a Padawan.” A touch of weariness far beyond his years suggested to you that perhaps there was much more to the Jedi than ‘saber swinging and Force manipulation. It was disconcerting.   
But you couldn’t help dropping your jaw as you entered the Room of a Thousand Fountains. It was colossal, with gardens and a small lake, but most striking of all was the sense of tranquility that rushed through you as you entered. “Oh, stars,” you said, craning your neck to take it all in. “This is… stunning.”  
“It’s a good place to meditate,” Obi-Wan said. “And to go for late night swims.”  
“You’re allowed to swim in here?” It seemed too sacred a place to splash about.  
“Not technically.” The edges of his lips tugged upwards. “But the Council isn’t always omniscient. My old master, he was attuned to the Living Force, and he encouraged me. I’ll blame my impropriety on him.”  
“Impropriety? I’d expect you to be the farthest person from impropriety in the Order,” you said honestly. He only chuckled.   
You continued down the winding path, Obi-Wan pointing out to you certain architectural features and bits of history that only one very familiar with the Temple could provide.  
But nothing compared to the Archives, which were far beyond what you could have possibly imagined. Shelf after shelf of books stretched far down the hall, farther than you could see.   
“This is incredible,” you whispered. “Obi-Wan… how can you even bear to leave this place?”  
“You like it?”   
“I love it,” you said earnestly, and then looked at the floor. “I’ve… I’ve always wanted my own library. If I weren’t a Senator, I mean.”  
“Is the Senate not your dream career?”  
You shook your head vigorously. “I never wanted to be a Senator. I was forced into the role. If I had to work in politics, I would have even preferred to be a diplomat, or an advisor. To speak for an entire planet is nearly an impossible duty.”  
“It’s a stressful job, I take it.”  
“I don’t mind the stress.” You bit your lip. “It’s not the stress that bothers me. It’s the… feeling of inadequacy. I just don’t like knowing that I’m failing to make everyone happy. Every person on that planet is under my protection, and if anyone is hurt, or unhappy, or starving… it’s my fault. I don’t like how much pain I cause people by my decisions as Senator.”  
“You can’t live like that, Y/N,” Obi-Wan said, leading you out of the Archives. “You must remember that you’ve also made positive life-changing decisions. You’ve helped to protect people and improve your planet.”  
“I know that.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “But no matter how much good I do, it never seems to help me forget the bad.”  
“I understand that completely.” Obi-Wan gazed past you, as though seeing something invisible. “Never did I expect to be a general in a war.”  
“Perhaps that’s the way we learn best, then,” you mused. “We can’t learn who we are until we’re in these types of positions. We need to feel uncomfortable with our identity in order to truly understand it.”  
“If one is truly content in their position, and is fulfilled, does that mean that they cannot fully grasp their identity, then?” Obi-Wan asked.   
Your cheeks warmed. You hadn’t expected to engage in a philosophical discussion with Obi-Wan Kenobi. It didn’t feel right; were you even worthy of speaking your thoughts with someone so superior to you? But it felt equally appalling to try to change the subject, so you answered as truthfully as you could.   
“True, someone might fill their identity well when content, but they will never know their limitations if they never are forced to reach them.”  
“But are negatives and limitations necessary to comprehension?” Obi-Wan asked. His tone was knowing, as though he were enjoying making you squirm. Perhaps he was.   
“You can’t ask that question,” you said, giving him an accusatory glance. “There’s no answer. The world isn’t divided into ‘yes’ and ‘no’. In some circumstances, the answer might be yes, and in others, it could be no. It’s completely subjective.”  
The Jedi untucked his hands from his robe. “I was hoping to corner you into an answer. Then I would have won.”  
“I didn’t realize it was a competition,” you said lightly. “If I had, I’m sure I would have won.” You meant this very sarcastically, but Obi-Wan didn’t address it.  
“You’d make a good Jedi,” he said. “That’s one of the most difficult lessons for Padawans to learn - that the world is not absolute. It isn’t black and white. There is ambiguity to every situation. The best Jedi understand and use this to their advantage.”  
You didn’t know what to say to that. To thank him felt as though you would be agreeing with his assessment of you.   
“That’s kind of you to say,” you said finally, “but I’m really a nobody. I don’t think I’d last one day as a Jedi.”  
He didn’t get a chance to answer. A Nautalon came running up, his face grim.   
“Bad news, General Kenobi. We intercepted a message from Dooku to Grievous. They’re planning an attack on Myrana.”  
His words echoed in your ears. You stared straight ahead, processing so slowly and yet so rapidly that it felt as though your mind had ceased proper thinking. “What?” you said, realizing you were interrupting only too late.   
The Jedi looked at you, surprised, as though it had just occurred to him that you were an outsider. “Not to worry, ma’am. Just Jedi business.”  
“That’s my planet,” you said. “I’m Senator of Myrana.”  
The Nautolan didn’t miss a beat and bowed his head. “I’m sorry to have delivered this news in such a disgraceful way to you, Senator. I didn’t realize who you were.”  
“It’s quite alright,” you said, recovering from the shock. “Is it Grievous that’s attacking?”  
“Yes.”  
“Do you have someplace safe to stay in Coruscant?” Obi-Wan asked, turning to you. “Your planet will need you to be ready to make an announcement. We should try to evacuate them as soon as possible. Is anyone on their way to apprehend Grievous yet?”  
“Not yet, General. The Council was wanting you to go.”  
Lines creased in Obi-Wan’s forehead. “Thank you, Master Fisto. I’ll leave as soon as possible. Is Anakin coming?”  
“No, he’s with Ahsoka on a mission to the Outer Rims.”  
“I’m coming,” you announced. “I’m not staying here while my planet is attacked.”  
“Y/N, I understand this is your planet, but this is not your fight. You’re not going to lead your planet by dying in a battle,” Obi-Wan said firmly.   
“Nor will I lead them by hiding off-planet. There’s nothing you can say or do that will change my mind.”   
Obi-Wan frowned. “Actually, I could use a mind trick and force you to stay behind for your own safety, if it comes to that.”  
“You won’t do that,” you guessed, hoping you were right. “You wouldn’t manipulate me. In the end, this is my decision.”  
His frown turned into a look of exasperation. “Can you use a blaster? Or a weapon? Do you have any way of defending yourself?”  
“I can use a blaster,” you assured him, smoothing your dress. “I was just telling you why I hate my job. If I don’t do this, I’m ignoring the lives of millions of civilians.”  
Obi-Wan leveled his gaze at you. “Am I right in assuming that nothing I can say will change your mind?”  
“Yes.”  
He sighed. “I swear, if you get injured, kidnapped for leverage, or worse-”  
“Then it will be my duty to my planet. A pilot always goes down with his starship. The same goes for me. I refuse to be a coward here when the rest of my family and planet is in danger at home.”  
Ever the gentleman, Obi-Wan dipped into a bow. “I cannot argue that, Y/N.”


	3. General Grievous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The imminent attack on Myrana brings you to the ship of one of the greatest enemies of the Republic — General Grievous.

Two hours later, you were on a ship to return home to Myrana, though just not in the way you had originally anticipated that morning. Instead of riding first-class in a passenger ship, you were at the front of a Jedi cruiser, beside Obi-Wan.  
“So tell me,” Obi-Wan said, putting his hands behind his back. “How exactly do you plan on helping your planet by joining the battle?”  
“You’re the general here, I believe.” You tilted your head at him. “Where do you need help? I don’t want to interfere with your plans.”  
His face was grim. It had taken on a permanent stony look ever since you left Coruscant, as though the war that had hardened him was stealing back any relief he had since returning to the Temple briefly. “I’m letting you make your own decision, but I will not stoop low enough as to directly place you in danger.”  
“But by not giving me orders, I’m more likely to get in the way, and thereby cause a setback.”  
“You may be a Senator, but you are still a civilian, in my view,” he said. “You truly want to help?”  
You nodded. Obi-Wan ran a hand through his beard, contemplating the flashing lights of hyperspace through the window. “Perhaps we can attempt to stall the attack.” He began to pace, gesturing as he spoke. “Had you not been here, Y/N, we would have been forced to launch an attack immediately, in the best interest of preventing Grievous from landing on Myrana. But with you here, there’s a chance that you can speak with him as a mediator.”  
“I’ll negotiate,” you said, an idea springing to your mind.  
“Negotiate with what terms?” he asked, crossing your arms. “Grievous must be aware that you have publicly sided with the Republic. He knows there’s no chance that Myrana would join the Separatists.”  
“He must know that I’ve been off-planet discussing oil with the Senate. There’s theoretically a chance that we could have had a disagreement and I, opting to favor the environment and people of my planet, severed my ties with the Republic. I’ll convince him that I would rather be independent and aid anyone who needs assistance, but without allegiance to either side.” You began to warm up, speaking more excitedly. “I’ll ask to make a deal with him - oil in exchange for our independence - and whilst his fleet is being ordered to stop the attack by Grievous himself, that’s where your fleet comes in. Catch him off guard and capture him.”  
Obi-Wan shook his head. “There are a lot of ways this could go wrong, but I think that might be the best way. It might ensure a victory for us with fewer casualties than if we go in while Grievous is prepared for an attack.”  
You glanced at the radar at the front of the ship. “We’re nearing Myrana. We can stop somewhere just outside - far enough away that we won’t be picked up on Grievous’s radars - and then I’ll take a smaller ship out to meet him.”  
Obi-Wan nodded. “We’ll be just out of reach. Here.” He handed you a comlink. “Use this to contact me.”

You weren’t quite sure how this had all unfolded, once you were in the smaller ship ready to depart. Several days ago you had been on Coruscant finishing an oil deal. Now, you were going to go negotiate with General Grievous of the Separatist Army. Not to mention you were the farthest thing from a warrior, and if he decided to attack you, you’d be dead within seconds. You couldn’t help but snort at the thought of yourself trying to run away with your measly blaster in hand.   
No, it was best to stay diplomatic.   
It was almost too easy to get on board. You informed the droids who you were, and what your purpose was, and you were permitted to land in Hangar 46C.   
“Senator Y/L/N,” a droid said as you exited the ship. “You wish to negotiate with the Separatist Alliance?”  
“I do,” you said. “I am aware that General Grievous is launching an attack on my planet and I am willing to make a deal in order to prevent violence.”  
“We’ll arrange a meeting between you and one of our droid corporals, then.”  
“I would rather - I mean, I demand - that I speak with General Grievous, please. This is important.”  
“Corporal 4V82QP is perfectly willing to—”  
“No. Take me to Grievous. Now. Please,” you added at the end, blushing at your own assertive tone.   
The droid didn’t miss a beat. “I am programmed to only allow scheduled meetings between the General and Senators. You didn’t schedule a meeting.”  
“Well, I’m scheduling one right now. It begins in ten minutes.”  
“But that’s not—”  
“Nine minutes,” you amended. The droid froze.  
“Right this way, Senator,” it decided, and you were led out of the hangar.   
The ship was a maze. If this plan somehow went wrong, you doubted that you would be able to find your way out to escape. It was an unnerving thought. You held your chin high, though, to project much more confidence than you actually felt, and quietly pressed a button on your comlink.  
“I’m to meet with Grievous,” you said quietly. “I’ll contact you when I’ve spoken with him.”  
“Be careful,” was Obi-Wan’s laconic response on the other end, but you could still hear the worry in it nonetheless. 

“Why am I meeting with the Senator of this planet?” Grievous spat once you were led into the command center. “I have been expressly commanded by Count Dooku to attack this planet! Nothing you can say will change that.”  
“Perhaps it might, when you hear the terms I’d like to lay out,” you said. “I want to negotiate with you.”  
“We are preparing to slaughter your people. Myrana will be the source of fuel for the Separatist Alliance,” Grievous said, turning away from you. “I’d suggest you evacuate before we blow up your pretty cities.”  
Your spine tingled at the thought. “That is unnecessary for both of us. Yes, many of my people will perish, but you know that Myrana also has a powerful army. You’ll lose many droids in the process.”  
“Droids are expendable! That is the point of them, Senator.”  
“Expendable, yes, but also expensive,” you continued. “What if you could secure the oil, but not lose any droids in battle? You’d save weapons, ships, and thereby an immense amount of money.”  
Grievous turned back around, leering at you. “You think you can offer that to me? You are a child, Senator.”  
“I am no child and I am perfectly capable of offering this to you. I am willing to forfeit my alliance with the Republic in order to save my people. I can open up trade between Myrana and the Separatist Alliance, and no battle shall be necessary.”  
“Then we are still paying for oil.” Grievous coughed violently, while you waited patiently, turning your head infinitesimally to avoid the spray of spit. “Either way we lose money.”  
You raised your tone. “General, you forget that I care about my people. I am willing to meet any demand of yours to secure my people’s safety. I will offer you oil at an inordinately cheap price if you and Count Dooku step back from your plans to attack the planet.”  
He said nothing. You took this as an invitation to continue.   
“Accept my offer and retreat from Myrana. I will speak with the Count immediately, if you’d rather, and we can arrange a deal in which you are satisfied with your supply and cost of oil, and my people are kept safe from the violence of war.”  
It seemed an eternity in which you stood still, your hands sweating profusely, and Grievous stared at you. Finally, he coughed again, and said, “I accept your deal, Senator, but I must speak with the Count first. Wait outside with the droids.”  
You curtseyed and obeyed, leaving with a droid on either side of you. Once the door had slid shut and you were alone with them, you faked a gasp, eliciting a response instantly from both droids.   
“Senator?” the first said, prodding at you.  
“I’m just… I think that I’ve…”  
“Spit it out, Senator.”  
“I’m having lady troubles,” you said, the last part in a stage whisper. “Might you direct me to the nearest refresher?”  
“That way, ma’am.” He pointed a metallic finger towards a room on the left.   
“Thank you,” you said graciously, and entered the bathroom. “Obi-Wan?”  
He responded nearly instantly. “Did Grievous accept the deal?”  
“I believe so. He seemed to like it, but now he’s contacting Dooku to see if the count will accept it as well. I’m waiting outside the command center. I don’t know if I can get away to speak to you again, so I’ll press my comlink to let you hear the conversation between myself and Grievous.”  
“From what I know about you, I expected you to be successful, but you’ve still far exceeded what any other Senator is capable of. You’ve just stopped an attack on an entire planet, Y/N, and you should be quite proud.”  
You didn’t know how to accept the compliment. “Thank you, but it really wasn’t much.”  
“It was to me.” His voice softened. “As soon as I get word that they’re stopping the attack, we’re going to surround his ships from all sides. We won’t shoot until you’re safely off.”  
“Don’t worry about me-”  
“We will not attack with you on board. I’ll come to retrieve you, because Grievous will realize quickly that it’s a trap. As soon as you can, go to the hangar that is at the far back of the ship. I can get in there easiest and we’ll get out before we blow up his ships.”  
You exhaled. “Sounds like a plan.”


	4. The Escape Pod

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Obi-Wan have to make a quick escape off of Grievous's ship, but what awaits you in your escape pod might be even worse.

“It seems we have a deal, Senator.” Grievous’s raspy voice was music to your ears. You nodded amiably and reached to the top of your head as though to adjust your braid, but discreetly tapped your comlink so that Obi-Wan could hear the conversation.  
“I’m glad we could come to a consensus,” you said. “I expect that you will abandon your attack on my planet?”  
“Yes, that is to be arranged. The weapons are being disengaged at the very moment. We will, however, return by tomorrow with ships that need fuel.” Grievous took out a small datapad from his cloak and clicked a few buttons on it. “There. Myrana is no longer a planet the Separatists will conquer, but instead an ally. We’re happy to have you in our allegiance.”  
“Of course,” you said, your eyes following the datapad where he set it down. There was a pregnant pause. “What other benefits can I expect from this partnership?” you asked to keep him from shooing you away. “For instance, could we set up a mutually advantageous mining operation on our moon Jyta? It’s off in that direction.”   
“It’s a possibility.” He was beginning to sound irritated. You inched closer to the datapad.   
“If you’ll notice, the proportion of water to land is much higher on Myrana than it is on Jyta. If the Separatists provided us with advanced mining tools, we could mine resources on Jyta, which is more accessible due to its lack of water. If you’ll observe the moon, it has quite the impressive ratio of land to water.”  
Grievous as well as the droids turned around, and, your heart pumping wildly, you grabbed the datapad and stowed it in your cloak. Your face was so hot that it was a wonder he didn’t call you out on it as he turned back around.  
“Hm,” Grievous said finally, and waved a clawed hand. “Yes. Perhaps. Now go away, I have business to attend to.”  
You were all too happy to obey and hurried out of the room, the droids at your side. That would be an issue, you realized, as they began to lead you back to the hangar you arrived in. You’d have to let them take you there, and hope that you’d have a chance to get away.   
The halls were cold and empty. You nearly had to jog to keep up with the droids, and you were glad to have worn a dress that fell to your calves; otherwise, you would have fallen by this point. The datapad jostled against your side, and you didn’t even want to think about what you would do if Grievous discovered it was missing before you were able to leave his ship.   
The droids brought you a different way out than the way you had come in; this time, you were brought into a large room full of sensors and lights.   
“What’s this?” you asked as they brought you through.  
“Just protocol, Senator. We’ve had issues with intruders on board. Step through here so that we can detect any illicit materials on you.”  
“I didn’t have to do this when I boarded.”  
“It’s new protocol, so we haven’t installed security for boarding yet. Not to worry, Senator, it’s just precautionary. You’ll be through in a minute.”  
There was absolutely nothing you could do. You were ushered through the scanners, and just as you were beginning to believe that you might make it through, there was a piercing beep. The droid craned his head at you.   
“She has illicit materials on her,” he reported, reaching towards you. “I need to check your pockets, Senator—”  
You didn’t give him the chance. You ducked out of his reach and took off running without looking behind you. Your stomach was doing somersaults as you ran — I am not made for this sort of thing, oh stars, what have I done, this is what the Jedi should be doing, I’m only a Senator, kriff, kriff, kriff — and you dashed down a different hall towards what you hoped was the back of the ship.   
It took another minute for the droids to turn on the red lights signalling to shut down the ship. A voice on the intercoms was reporting your escape, but you were hardly listening; right now, what you needed was to get to the hangar before it was closed off.   
It was only when you heard your comlink chiming that you remembered you had direct contact to a Jedi. Cursing your own stupidity, you answered, out of breath. “Obi-Wan?”  
“Are you at the hangar?”  
“Not quite. I might have made a mistake.”  
He paused on the other end. “How large a mistake?”  
“Large enough that they’re shutting down the ship and trying to hunt me down.”  
“Stars, Y/N, I thought you came to an agreement with Grievous!” Obi-Wan sounded angry and it made your stomach churn with mortification. The last thing you wanted was to burden him with another problem, and yet here you were, making life more difficult for him.   
“I’m so sorry!” you said, and felt the absurd need to cry; you would give anything to be safely back on a ship headed for Myrana, with no Separatists chasing you, and far from the disappointment of Obi-Wan. But you were a Senator, and you had been entrusted with this mission, and you couldn’t let your own panic get in the way. You steeled yourself and kept running down the hall, glancing at the small signs denoting where the hangars were. From what you could tell, you were heading in the right direction, but it was a large ship and you weren’t exactly a fast sprinter in these shoes. Upon thinking this, you halted, and peeled off your heels. The relief was instantaneous and you were able to continue at a much quicker clip.   
“I’m almost there now,” Obi-Wan said, and he sounded as though he were gritting his teeth. “Y/N, I need you to hurry.”  
Embarrassment consumed you again. “I’m on my way.” You shut off the comlink so that you could focus on where you were getting.   
“There she is!” The metallic cry of a droid on your right made your stomach plunge. You whirled around and dove just as a blaster shot fired where your head had been.   
“Hey, bucket head!” you shouted, pulling out the blaster that had been stowed in your cloak and firing at him. You completely missed and had to roll to avoid getting shot again. It hadn’t been a complete lie when you had told Obi-Wan you could use a blaster, but… you were certainly not a good shot. It had felt like a good idea at the time to exaggerate your skills, but now, not so much.   
To your amazement, though, your next shot proved to be accurate and hit the droid right in his chest. He staggered back and you took off again.   
It took a long time to reach the hangar; how long, you weren’t quite sure, but it felt like centuries. You slowed down as you entered to not draw attention to yourself and pulled the hood of your cloak over your head to hide your large braids that would doubtlessly stand out.   
“I’m here,” you whispered into your comlink.  
“Oh, good,” Obi-Wan said, his tone relieved. “I’m flying in now.” He was true to his words — you could see his shuttle swooping into the hangar.   
“How’d you get clearance?” you asked, amazed.  
“A few tricks,” he said mysteriously, and then he landed. You ran up to the shuttle, waiting for its doors to open.   
“There’s the Senator! Blow up that ship!” a voice resonated behind you.   
Dread flooded through you. “Obi-Wan, get out of there!”  
Either he heeded your warning or he sensed the danger through the Force, because he leapt out of the shuttle just as a droid began firing at the shuttle.   
“Oh, kriff,” you muttered, staring at your only way out of the hangar. “That’s not good.”  
“Move!” Obi-Wan grabbed your hand and pulled you away, and with him tugging you were able to move quicker than you would have ever moved on your own. The two of you got out of the way just as the shuttle exploded, debris flying towards you in a fiery arc. Obi-Wan threw his hands out aggressively and the shrapnel came to a lazy stop in midair before it could reach both of you, and fell harmlessly to the floor.  
“There’s some escape pods up there!” You pointed to an upper level of the hangar, about forty feet above your heads. “I can see them! If we can get up there, then—”  
“I see your point.” Obi-Wan pulled out his lightsaber and began to deflect incoming bullets.   
“I can try to find a staircase or elevator to get us there.” You moved to sprint away but Obi-Wan grabbed your shoulder.   
“That isn’t necessary.” His accent was as polished and polite as ever, even amidst deflecting incoming blaster bullets. “Brace yourself.”  
“For what?” you began to ask, but you had your answer soon enough; you yelped as an invisible push sent you upwards, in the direction of the upper level. Even while distracted by the blasters, Obi-Wan had masterful control, and you landed softly on the upper level. The next moment, he dipped down, and with a jump he ascended to the level.   
“That was incredible!” you couldn’t help saying as he landed. “That was… stars, I wish I could jump like that!”  
“It’s not me, it’s the aid of the Force,” he said modestly, but his lips curved in a soft smile all the same. “Let’s move, we need to get out of here.” He ran to the control pad and began pressing buttons. The door to one of the escape pods slid open and you both hurried inside. The door closed and with another press of the buttons you felt the escape pod dislodge from the ship.  
“Commander Cody?” Obi-Wan said into his comlink. “We’re off. You’re clear to fire at the ship.”  
He turned off the comlink as you settled to the floor in exhausted relief. “That was the most excitement I’ve had in my entire life.”  
“I don’t know if ‘excitement’ is what I’d call it. How did they realize our intentions? I thought it all went well.”  
“It did.” You hesitated. “But I might have taken something of Grievous’s and they found it when we went through security.”  
“You took something— Y/N, why in the name of the Sith would you steal something!?”  
“See for yourself.” You pulled out the datapad. “It’s his war agenda. It contains the names of planets he has formed alliances with, and planets he intends to attack.”  
Obi-Wan’s eyebrows creased in surprise. “Impressive. You’ve done the Republic a great service.”  
“Well, I don’t know about that. I only made things worse.”  
“Quite the contrary. I’m glad you secured this datapad. Y/N, this could change the tide of the war!” The moment these words left Obi-Wan’s mouth, the escape pod gave a great shudder.   
“That doesn’t sound good.” You peered out the window. “Are they attacking us?” From what you could see, the Republic cruisers were flanking Grievous’s ships and launching their own attack, and the Separatists would be hard-pressed to find the time to shoot down the little escape pod far in the distance.  
“No.” Obi-Wan closed his eyes. “The Force does not feel… malicious. It’s more so a warning.”  
“A warning of what?”  
“Malfunctioning,” he answered, just as the engine of the escape pod rumbled. “Blast. That didn’t sound good.”  
“Will we make it to Myrana?” you asked anxiously.   
“Highly doubtful. What’s the nearest habitable planet we could crash safely on?”  
You ran through all of the nearby planets in your mind. “Myrana and our moon, Jyta, are the only civilized planets out here,” you said. “There’s thousands of microplanets out here, though; most don’t even have names. They’re plentiful for the most part, but there’s no telling who we’d meet.”  
“That’s better than Hoth,” Obi-Wan said, taking the controls of the pod. “Have you ever had a crash landing before?”  
“That sounds a bit contradictory,” you observed. “And no, I haven’t.”  
Obi-Wan’s clear eyes met your own. “You’re in for a ride, then.”


	5. Impact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Obi-Wan crash-land on a mysterious planet in the system of Myrana.

It occurred to you, as the escape pod picked up speed and you and Obi-Wan hurtled towards the surface of an unknown microplanet, that your life had been relatively boring until you had met the Jedi. Safe, yes, but also boring. Strangely, you felt calm, as though this was how it was meant to be all along. You gazed out the window at the blurring outer space, wondering if you had been destined since birth to go down in this pod with a Jedi.  
“You should buckle up,” Obi-Wan told you. “It’s going to get bumpy once we enter the atmosphere.”  
You buckled in. “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you added hurriedly.  
“Ask away.” He toggled at the buttons rapidly, opening up the wings of the pod in an attempt to slow it down.   
“Before we crash… I’ve just always been curious, and I don’t want to die without at least asking—”  
“With all due respect, Y/N, we’re not dying today.”  
“I’m being realistic — we’re plunging downwards with no way to stop.”  
“I am also being realistic. We’re not going to die, not if I can help it. Are you always so negative?”  
Your mouth dropped. “I wasn’t trying to be negative!”  
He smirked at you. “Not to worry. We’ll survive. That is, depending on who and what we find on the surface of the planet.”  
Silence. You glanced away from him, startled by his sarcasm.   
“What were you going to ask?”  
“It’s a dumb questioned.” You crossed your arms. “Besides, if I’m not dying, then I’ve got more time to ask it, haven’t it?”  
“Well, now I’m curious.”  
“Good. It’ll be an incentive for you to help us stay alive.”  
“What do you think I’m trying to do here?”   
“I don’t know.” You unbuckled, hoping he wouldn’t reprimand you, and stood next to him with the controls of the pod. “Is there no way that we’ll land safely?”  
“Not that I’m aware of.”  
“Then we need to prepare for a crash.” You began to stow away all of the items in the pod into the storage containers; the datapad, your blaster, and a few other items were all sitting out. “I don’t exactly want to be impaled by Grievous’s datapad.” You then rummaged in the ceiling compartments and found the oxygen masks. “Here.”  
He accepted it. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”  
“I don’t know how to land an escape pod, but I know how to stay safe during crashes,” you said grimly. “Being a protected Senator comes with its perks. Okay, now we buckle.”  
He sat in the seat next to you and buckled in as well.   
“Keep your feet further back from your knees to lessen the impact,” you advised. “And tuck down.”  
“We’re in the atmosphere,” Obi-Wan said. “I’ve got all of the brakes on as tightly as I can make them go, so we’ll be slowing a bit, but not enough to preserve the pod.”  
“We’re getting close.” You had to look away from the window to avoid getting nauseous. “Good luck, Obi-Wan.”  
He smiled. “We don’t need luck. That phrase is never spoken in the Jedi Temple.”  
“What do you say, then?”  
“May the Force be with you, Y/N.”  
And then the world exploded.

“Y/N? Can you hear me?”  
“Yeah.” Unbuckling, you struggled to sit up and held your head, which was still spinning. “How are we alive?”  
“You didn’t trust me when I said we’d survive?”  
“Not entirely,” you admitted. The front of the escape pod was crushed in like a raisin. If the impact had been any more violent, you and Obi-Wan would have been crumpled up underneath the metal, too. It made you shiver.  
“Are you hurt at all?” Obi-Wan asked, surveying you.   
“I’m fine,” you said, ignoring your pounding head. There was no need to bother him about that. “You?”  
“Never better.” He unbuckled and swiftly cut a hole in the ceiling with his ‘saber. You watched with fascination as the metal was cut like butter, leaving a neat circle above. “Ladies first.”  
You weren’t prepared for the Force push that lifted you up and out of the roof of the escape pod, and you yelped again at its unexpected sensation. Obi-Wan followed with a neat flip out of the hole, landing like a gymnast on the ground.   
“You’re just showing off,” you grumbled, dusting yourself off. “Was the flip necessary?”  
“It propelled me forward a bit,” he said, but then added as though it were a second thought, “I suppose not. Are your intricate braids necessary?”  
You couldn’t believe his audacity. “You’re making fun of my hair?”  
He grinned. “Of course not, Senator. I’m merely pointing out that we both have embellishments to our appearance that help to justify our positions.”  
“Hm.” You took in the landscape of the planet you had crashed on. It was certainly remote. Vast, steep hills rose up on either side of you; from what you could tell, you had landed in a forested fjord. The trees rose up hundreds of feet and there was a constant buzz in the air from insects that you dearly hoped were smaller than your thumb, at the least. You checked the datapad in your pocket; it had no signal. You hadn’t expected reception but it was disappointing nonetheless.  
“At least the temperature is comfortable here,” Obi-Wan said, shrugging his cloak off. “We won’t get cold.”  
You frowned. “We landed in one of the microplanets at the edge of the system. That means we’re farther from the same sun that supplies Myrana’s heat. As warm as it is right now, I’d estimate that we’re going to have some cold nights.”  
“Lovely.” Obi-Wan glanced down at your feet. “Might I ask where your shoes went?”  
“I abandoned them in the interest of running faster away from the droids,” you responded, taking off ahead of him.   
“Where are you headed?”  
“To find civilization.” You pointed at the steep hill rising up to the left. “We can go there for a vantage point. If we can find a town, someone will give us a ship to leave.”  
“That is, if they’re generous,” Obi-Wan said, following you.  
“I’m the Senator of the governing planet in this system. They’ll help us,” you said confidently.  
The Jedi looked at you sideways. “That’s presumptuous. How do you know they don’t despise you?”  
“Every decision I’ve ever made has been in the interest of my people,” you said, nettled. “I don’t lead for money. I lead to serve them. That’s always been what I do.”  
“I believe you,” Obi-Wan said, “but they might not be on the same page. You’d be surprised how the actions of politicians can be misinterpreted by the people that live far from the cities you reside in.” This ended the conversation on an ominous note, and the trek up the hill began.


	6. Interpretations of the Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Obi-Wan continue through the mysterious planet and discuss the ways of the Force.

“I feel bad,” you suddenly said, thirty minutes into the hike. It was such a steep hill that you had to take a winding path and a half an hour had only brought you a third of the way up. It wasn’t even a hill, you realized; it was a mountain.  
“For what?”  
“I’m slowing you down. You could have easily climbed this entire mountain now. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could just jump all the way up.”  
“Ah.” His eyes glinted mischievously. “I thought you’d say you felt bad for causing our hasty flight from Grievous’s ship, which consequently led to our crashing on this unnamed planet.”  
“Don’t make me feel worse about it!” you protested. “I already feel absolutely horrible about it!”  
His expression softened. “You shouldn’t. I’m kidding. The datapad you stole is invaluable, and I’m sure the Council is going to be very pleased that you got it.”  
“Do you think you could jump all the way up?” you asked after a moment, and then amended, “What’s the highest you’ve ever jumped?”  
“Qui-Gon, who was my old master, and I used to compete, to see who could jump higher,” he said, “but I’ve never measured.”   
“Well, put it on your to-do list. I want to know how high you can jump.” You planted yourself on a rock, trying to ignore how thirsty you were. Obi-Wan chuckled.  
“What is it?” You felt defensive; the only thing that he could possibly be laughing at was your desire to rest from hiking.  
You were wrong, though. “Your curiosity,” he answered. “You genuinely are fascinated by the Jedi, aren’t you?”  
“Well, yeah,” you admitted. “You’re like the heroes in a story. You’re the protagonists of an epic saga. You’re the defenders of the galaxy.”  
“That’s a bit of an exaggeration. Being a Jedi is no different from the importance of being a senator. The only thing that distinguishes me from you is that I am Force-sensitive. We are all the same; all of us are living creatures trying to survive in a world that so desperately wants to stake the odds against us. You and I… we’re not very different.”  
“I beg to differ,” you muttered. “For one, you’re not exhausted at all by this hike.”  
“That’s the Force aiding me. It’s not truly myself that’s different.”  
“You’re just trying to make me feel better.” You stood up and continued walking. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to respectfully disagree with you.”   
“You’re going the steep way,” Obi-Wan said from behind you.   
“Yes. If I’m no different from you, then I should be able to climb this mountain,” you said, knowing perfectly well that this would vex him.   
His footsteps were hurried behind you. “That’s not hiking, Y/N. That’s rock climbing. I wouldn’t recommend trying.”  
You ignored him and continued forward.   
“And you’ve got no shoes!” Obi-Wan got in front of you, blocking your path with his arms crossed. “You don’t need to prove a point.”  
“I already have,” you said. “But that doesn’t matter, because we’ve got a good enough vantage point from here.” You pointed to the distance. “See the smoke in the distance?”  
“Civilization,” he said. “That’s at least a day of walking. You up for that?”  
“Do we have any other choice?”  
“No,” he decided. “But you know what’s even closer?”  
“What?” you asked apprehensively.   
He pointed at the sky. “Those are some storms rolling in. We’d better find shelter.”

The incoming rain was torrential, pounding the canopy of the tree you and Obi-Wan had huddled underneath without any indication of letting up. Your cloak was completely soaked through, as the leaves of the tree above was not entirely efficient in blocking the raindrops, and your feet felt like ice, even with them tucked in between your legs and under your cloak. The only solace was the muja fruit Obi-Wan had found, and now the two of you chewed on the sweet fruit as you waited for the storm to subside.  
“What does the Force tell you?” you asked after a minute of nothing but the sound of rain splattering on the trees. “What does it say about where we are?”  
“You sound like Qui-Gon. He used to ask me that to try to get me to focus more on the Living Force.” He smiled and leaned back against the tree trunk. “It tells me nothing and everything.”  
“Are you just trying to be as cryptic as possible?”  
“No, it truly does. The Force doesn’t affirm anything; the world is always changing, and I can’t trust that a warning I’m receiving from the Force means what I think it does. That’s why it tells me nothing. It’s all subjective; all interpretive.”  
“Then how can it tell you everything simultaneously?”  
“Because it’s always informing, and always sending me signs. Let’s put it this way: it constantly gives me information, but it is subjective, and never can I truly know what it is telling me.”  
You gazed out at the surrounding fjord in wonder. “So it tells you about everything around us? What does it say about the rain?”  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. “Vitality. Longevity. The imminence of autumn.”  
It was late summer, you realized. “And does it say anything about the smoke in the distance?”  
“Only that there is life there. Whether it is life that we’d like to encounter or not, I cannot say.”  
“And what does it say about me?”  
“Cold,” he said simply.  
“Cold?” You looked at him with incredulity. “That’s rude of it to say.”  
Obi-Wan grinned. “Not cold as in aloof. Cold as in your toes are freezing. I can sense it.” He began to take off his boots. “Here.”  
You instantly felt guilty. “No,” you protested. “They’re your boots.”  
“Yes, and you need them.” He handed them to you, and you took them but didn’t put them on.  
“Look,” you said, taking a deep breath. “You’re… honorable. You’re a Jedi and a General. You deserve to wear boots. Me, I’m just a Senator from a small system of planets — my feet don’t…” You trailed off.   
“What, your feet don’t matter as much? I beg your pardon, Y/N, but the Force is telling me you are freezing, and as I am a servant to the Force, I am obliged to obey. You wouldn’t want to make me go against my own religion, would you?”  
You grudgingly started to put them on. They were mercifully warm inside. “How about we take turns? I’m not going to let your feet freeze, either.”   
“We’ll see.” Obi-Wan stood. “The rain is stopping. Shall we continue?”  
You stretched. “Yes. If we want to make it by nightfall tomorrow, we need to get moving.”  
“Yes,” he agreed. “So, how did you hear about Maul, anyway?”  
You shrugged. “I was reading some records of the Senate and stumbled across it. I take it he’s Sith? Why did he want to kill you?”  
“Because I killed him,” Obi-Wan said. “Or I thought I had. He would like nothing more than to murder me, and I’m sure that won’t be his last attempt.”  
Goosebumps crawled up my arms. “We should go after him. Get him before he gets you.”  
“‘We’? I highly doubt I would ever let you anywhere near Maul,” Obi-Wan said. “He’s dangerous.”  
“So am I. He’ll tremble in my presence,” you said, and Obi-Wan chuckled. The clouds finally cleared away and sunlight fell across you, but it was short-lived, as sunset began its steady descent.  
“I’ve got another question,” you said eventually as the last of the daylight vanished over the horizon. “You said earlier that you sensed through the Force that I was cold. Can you… um… sense anything else? Like… thoughts? Or feelings?”   
“Don’t worry, I can’t read your mind.” Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. “Is there something you’re hiding, Y/N?”  
“No!” you said defensively. “I was just wondering.”  
“Of all the beings I’ve ever met, I believe you are the most curious,” he said.   
You halted. “Oh, stars. I’m sorry. I’ve been hammering you with questions, over and over again—”  
“No, that’s not what I meant at all. Curiosity is one of the greatest gifts one can behold,” he said. “And as for your question, I can pick up feelings and wisps of intentions if I choose. Not direct thoughts; more a whisper of what they mean. Does that make sense?”  
“A bit.”  
“Don’t worry. Jedi study the Force their whole lives and even we don’t fully understand it.” He pointed ahead to a dense circle of trees. “Shall we find adequate lodgings?”  
Thirty minutes later, he had gotten a fire going, and you were warming your toes by it — you’d returned his boots to him, insisting that you needed them no longer.   
“It’s strange,” you said, looking at the distant shape of Myrana in the sky. “We’re so close to Myrana, yet we could be millions of miles away.”  
“I like it.”  
“Even with its complementary downsides? Sleeping on the dirt and eating muja fruit for mealtimes?”  
“It’s a forced vacation from the war. A chance to connect with nature and the Force. The company could be worse, too; if it were Anakin I were stuck here with, this would be a nightmare.”  
“I’m pleased to hear I’m not a nightmare,” you said.   
“You can get some rest, if you’d like. I’ll take the first watch.”  
“No,” you said, even though you felt so exhausted that it was difficult to keep your eyes open. “Like you said, this is a forced vacation for you. You deserve to take a break, after all you’ve done for the Republic.”  
He smiled. “I appreciate your kindness, Y/N, but I don’t mind. Go to sleep and I’ll wake you in two hours.”  
It was only later, when he would awaken you as promised for your shift, that you realized he had laced these words with Force persuasion, because you couldn’t remember the last time you had fallen asleep so quickly.


	7. Bluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Obi-Wan receive some unwanted company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for how short this chapter is, but I just haven't had much time to write! I hope you enjoy anyway :)

The dying embers of the fire were mesmerizing.  
You had your toes nearly on top of the coals, trying to keep them as warm as possible. Obi-Wan was somehow sleeping peacefully against a tree trunk, his features smoothed into tranquility. It had already been three hours since you’d taken over — in other words, one hour over when you should have woken Obi-Wan up — but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. He was the renowned General Kenobi, but you knew that came with its cons; namely, infrequent rest. Perhaps you’d give him another half an hour of sleeping, then you’d sleep for the remaining hour and a half. He probably wouldn’t be pleased, but it was nearly equal.  
A sudden cracking of twigs made you sit up straighter, squinting into the darkness. It seemed like it could be an animal, but after recent events, you were more wary than you used to be.   
Another twig cracked. Whatever this was, it wasn’t an animal scuttling quickly across the ground. You slowly reached for your blaster and aimed it into the trees, holding your breath. There wasn’t a sound. Perhaps you were being paranoid. After all, there weren’t many inhabitants on these planets; Myrana was the only one with cities.   
The grazing of a blaster bolt against your arm made you gasp aloud.   
“Obi-Wan!” you shouted, but he had already bolted upright the moment you felt the stinging of the bolt, before you had even made a sound.   
“Danger,” was all he had time to say before he had to dive aside, narrowly being missed by a beam of light aimed at his heart. You fired blindly into the dark with your blaster and were pleasantly surprised to hear a cry of pain, but this was only followed by a roar of anger, and a large man came lumbering out of the woods at you, firing at your hand and just scraping it. You dropped your blaster with a yelp, fire exploding by your thumb.   
“Kriff,” you muttered, backpedaling into a tree uselessly. Obi-Wan, who had ignited his lightsaber without you noticing, had attracted the attention of most of the assailants and was preoccupied deflecting bolt after bolt, neatly sending them into the surrounding trees.   
“Get the Jedi!” someone called out.   
“No!” The man approaching you shouted. “I’ve got it under control.” He grabbed you and pointed his blaster at your head. “Drop your lightsaber, Jedi!”  
The blaster bolts came to an abrupt halt and Obi-Wan stood, his face murderous in the rippling light of his ‘saber, unmoving.   
“Drop it!” the man screamed and he pressed the gun harder against your head.   
How mortifying, was all you could think. This is the second time someone’s been holding me hostage and Obi-Wan is forced to save me. This time, though, you knew Force persuasion wouldn’t work. Last time, the Weequay who had grabbed you had been one bounty hunter; this time, there were at least a dozen men surrounding you.   
Obi-Wan shut off his ‘saber and lowered it to the ground. A pang went through your chest — you knew his ‘saber was his life, and for him to put it down was nothing to underestimate. Someone else grabbed him and strapped cuffs on him; he cried out as though in pain and the sound of it was more disturbing than anything else.   
“Are we taking him back to camp?” one of the men asked.   
“Yeah. The boss will want to question him. What should we do with the girl?”  
The man holding you harrumphed. “Small. Weak. Useless. We can drop her off at the brothel and they’ll take her in.”  
Your heart pounded — both at the thought of being sent to a brothel and the very idea of being separated from Obi-Wan. Before you quite had a plan in mind, you found yourself speaking in the tone you reserved for when you spoke before the Galactic Senate.  
“You will release my partner and me,” you said in a high, clear voice.   
The men looked to each other confusedly, as though unsure of what to do. It gave me a bit of confidence and I repeated my statement again.   
“Right now, you will release my partner and me, and you will not follow us.” You waved your hand as you had seen Obi-Wan do when he used the Force persuasion technique. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Obi-Wan’s jaw drift open, as though he couldn’t believe what you were planning to do.   
“She’s using her Jedi manipulation!” the man holding you said. “Cuff her!”   
You had to hide your smile of grim satisfaction as they cuffed you; you were expecting a jolt of pain, seeing as Obi-Wan had cried out with the application of the handcuffs, but they were only cold metal. However, your satisfaction melted away in an instant when you met Obi-Wan’s eyes — they were hard and angry. You swallowed the sudden fear that accompanied facing Obi-Wan’s wrath and allowed the men to march you forward, hoping that wherever they were taking you, you’d be able to escape and finally get off of this planet.


	8. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Obi-Wan are taken by the mysterious inhabitants of the planet.

You and Obi-Wan were taken to a small village to the left of where you had seen the smoke. A river wound through its center, and the houses were narrow and colorful; had you not been handcuffed, you would have thought it was quaint. They brought you into a blood red house that seemed cute enough from the outside, but the inside was clearly a prison, with its rows of cells barred with steel. You were roughly tossed in one, alongside the muttering of “Jedi scum”, and Obi-Wan was thrown in the one next to you, although he managed to stay on his feet. The men left after that, which was an immense relief, as you turned to Obi-Wan.   
“Let’s hurry, before they come back in,” you said, standing up slower than usual with the restriction of your hands.   
“Oh, yes, that will be easy,” Obi-Wan said mildly. “I’ll just pop off these Force inhibitors, and then we’ll go running free.”  
Your stomach sank. “Force inhibitors?”  
“Yes. It limits my access severely to the Force.”  
You surveyed the cell and your own cuffs. “So… we’re stuck here, then.”   
“A sound evaluation,” Obi-Wan commented, sitting down in his cell. “Of course, if you hadn’t pretended to be a Jedi, then they would have let you go to the brothel, which you could easily escape. We could have been out of here by tonight.”  
“You think I could have left the brothel and staged a rescue here?” I said incredulously. “You think I could have gotten past the guards and snuck in somehow, gotten you out somehow, and then we would have gone merrily on our way?”  
“Well, it would be a better chance than what we have now.” He gazed forward without looking at you. “We have the most abominable luck in the galaxy.”  
Guilt flooded through you. The reason he was sitting in this cell right now was because of you. You sank back down to your feet, trying to ignore your numb toes, which were protesting against the cold cement ground of the cell.   
“What does it feel like?” I couldn’t help asking. Obi-Wan looked up, surprised.   
“What?”  
“What do the Force inhibitors feel like?”  
“It’s…” He frowned. “It’s like I’m blindfolded. Or underwater. I feel like one of my senses has been snuffed out, but it’s more than that; there’s also a cold absence where there should be life.” His eyebrows drew in. “Without the Force, and my ‘saber, everything feels disconnected.”  
You didn’t know what to say. “I’m so sorry.”  
He didn’t answer. You weren’t sure how much time passed in silence, perhaps an hour, maybe two. By the time you spoke again, the sun was setting, and the temperature was dropping more than you cared for it to.   
“You’re angry,” you said suddenly, preparing to coax him into a bit of optimism. “But—”  
“A Jedi does not feel anger,” was his stoic interruption.   
“Oh, you must be allowed to feel… let’s say, ‘severe dissatisfaction,’” you said, rolling your eyes. At this, the edges of Obi-Wan’s lips quirked upwards.   
“Alright. I’m severely dissatisfied,” he agreed. “Happy?”  
“A bit.” You leaned against the wall. “What’s the Jedi Code?”  
He began to instantly recite it as though he had done so a thousand times. Perhaps he had. “There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.”  
You exhaled. “Those five sentences alone could provide hours worth of philosophical discussions.”  
“We’ve nothing but time,” Obi-Wan said, his eyes lighting up.   
“Good. Because I have another question,” you informed him. “If peace is an emotion, then isn’t the first sentence contradictory?”  
For the first time in awhile, Obi-Wan laughed, and presently he began to explain to you what his master had told him when he had once had the same question. 

The guards didn’t return until daytime the next day. You had hardly slept, because it was too cold, but you scrambled to your feet the moment they entered.   
“What do you want with us?” you asked as they entered, going along with the plan you and Obi-Wan had developed through the night.   
They didn’t answer but instead set a glass of water inside your cell as well as some bread. Your heart leaped at its appearance but you forced yourself to look away from its allure and focus on the guards.   
“We crashed on your planet and we only want to leave,” Obi-Wan said. “We want no trouble with your people.”  
The oldest of the three guards laughed. “We get no visitors here. If someone lands on Yrow, they landed here intentionally.”  
Yrow. You vaguely remembered seeing the planet on a map. It was small, unexplored, and considered relatively empty aside from some animals. You had no idea it was populated.   
“Well, yes, we landed here intentionally,” you amended, “but only because our pod was crashing and Yrow was the closest planet to land on.”  
“Maybe we’d believe that,” the guard said, “if you weren’t Jedi. Jedi don’t land here accidentally. The arrival of anyone else who uses the Force is a direct threat to our boss.”  
“Your boss?” You frowned. “You mean the Senator of Myrana? Or some other leader?”  
“Senator of Myrana?” The guards all laughed together, and you bit your lip. You’d hoped for a more positive reaction to your existence; if they seemed to like you, then you would have revealed yourself to them.   
“No. The boss of Yrow. His Majesty is the only Force wielder we accept. Anyone else who uses it is prophesied to usurp him.” The guard jabbed at you through the cell. “If you Jedi are here, then you are a threat to His Majesty’s place as leader.”  
You decided to try one more time, just in case. “But isn’t Yrow under the jurisdiction of Senator L/N?”  
“‘Under the jurisdiction?’” the guard repeated. “L/N doesn’t pay attention to us. We’ve been on our own with few ships and supplies for generations. We’re a planet in her system that she neglects. Why would we listen to her rulings when she doesn’t listen to us?”  
“Maybe she doesn’t know your planet is populated,” you suggested, but the guards didn’t seem interested in talking about politics anymore.   
“The boss wants to speak with you scum later today,” another guard said. “He wants to know why you’re here and why you want to usurp him.”  
“We have absolutely no desire to usurp,” Obi-Wan countered. “Only to leave. Give us a ship and we’ll prove that to you.”  
“Give you a ship? We own only three, stupid. Tonight you’ll go to bed with a death sentence or as slaves,” the guard said. “If I were you, I’d hope for the former.”

“Kneel.” The boss of the village, whose name had been revealed as Olei, was a stout man, about seventy years old, with a crown of flowers sitting atop his thin hair.   
You obeyed, going to your knees on the floor.  
“So,” Olei said, standing up and pacing. “I understand that you two Jedi came to Yrow to usurp me?”  
“If I may speak, Your Majesty,” you said, keeping your eyes trained on the floor, “we were thinking nothing of the sort. We do not wish to intrude on your leadership in any way. We only want to be granted permission to leave, and we will be on our way.”  
He snorted. “The odds of two Jedi coming to my village — mine! — is too unlikely. You have ulterior motives, you always do.”  
“What would you like us to do with them, Your Majesty?” the guard on your right asked. “Slavery or execution?”  
“Hm.” Olei scratched at his beard. “I want to know why they’re here and why the Jedi Temple sent them. I want to ensure that no one else is coming.”  
“No one else will be coming, because no one knows we’re here!” Obi-Wan interjected. “We crashed!”  
“You are a good liar.” Olei raised his hand in the air and brought it downwards. Both you and Obi-Wan were shoved to the floor by an invisible force, and the wind was knocked out of your chest. “I am the only Force user who shall ever reign here.”  
“I agree,” Obi-Wan coughed. “We do not intend to intervene.”  
Olei drew closer. “I can extract it from your minds,” he said softly, “but I promise you that will be very painful, and slow. Wouldn’t you rather just tell me now why you’re here?”  
Obi-Wan looked up defiantly. “Of course it will be slow for you. You’re not a trained Jedi,” he said. “I can sense your Force signature. It’s weak.”  
That earned him a slap across the face. “And you claim to be better than me?”  
“I do.”  
He was slapped again. You silently pleaded for him to be quiet, and perhaps Obi-Wan sensed your urgency, because he ceased talking.   
“Speaking of Force signatures…” Olei glanced from Obi-Wan to you. “I can feel his signature pulsing, as hot as the sun, but yours, on the other hand…” He approached you and cupped your cheek. You twisted away violently, but he only grabbed you by your hair.   
“You’re vacant,” he said. “You’re like a hollow shell, devoid of any color or sound. You’re no Jedi.” He pushed you back, disgusted. “You lying scum.”  
“I don’t understand. You don’t want us to be Jedi,” you observed, recovering from his shove, “and yet you’re dissatisfied to discover I am not connected to the Force. Are you unhappy with all visitors, no matter who they are?”  
He stared at you, and then addressed the guards. “I want to know why the Jedi is here, and I want to know why he’s with this girl. Find out for me, please. I have better things to attend to.” With that, he swept out of the room, his nose in the air.   
The guard pulled you to your feet roughly. “Let’s take them to Lavina. She’ll take care of them.” But something told you that whoever this Lavina was, her care wouldn’t be pleasant.


	9. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Obi-Wan meet Lavina, the woman responsible for extracting information from prisoners.

The next place you were taken to was Lavina’s house, and though you didn’t know what that entailed, it was a vast improvement from the cell. It was carpeted and warm inside, with the smell of fresh cookies and candles lit over the house, and music thumped in the distance, as though there was a party on the second floor above you.  
“We’ve got two new ones!” the guard holding you called out, and left you and Obi-Wan tied to the wall in an empty room.   
Olei’s words were still circling around you. He’d known you weren’t a Jedi, but his description… it wasn’t how you wanted to be perceived by someone Force sensitive. “Is that how you see me, too? A ‘hollow shell devoid of the vibrance of the Force’?” you asked suddenly.   
“What?” Obi-Wan looked at you confusedly. “What makes you ask that?”  
“Olei knew I wasn’t a Jedi. Am I really so dull and… lifeless to look at?”  
“Do you really trust Olei? Yes, anyone Force sensitive can tell you aren’t a Force user, but that doesn’t make your signature a ‘hollow shell’. I think you’ve got a fascinating signature, in fact.”  
Your heart lifted slightly. “What is it?”  
“When I look at you, I see pastel yellow, like early morning sun. Your curiosity and loyalty is stamped all over your signature. Just because you’re not connected to the Force doesn’t make you any less a child of it.”  
You felt considerably better. “This isn’t so bad yet,” you said after a while, glancing around the empty room. “It’s better accommodations, that’s for sure.”  
“No, it isn’t.” Obi-Wan’s lips were pursed. “I can sense immense pain in here. It’s like a cave, trapped with echoes of the wounded and hurt.”  
“That’s putting it lightly.” A young woman came into the room. She wore a low-cut dress, and her hair was dark and glossy. Her makeup was impeccable, and your first reaction to her appearance was, admittedly, envy; you had never seen anyone so beautiful before. Next to you — with your dirt-covered bare feet, torn dress, and tangled hair — she looked like a goddess.   
“You’re Lavina, I suppose,” Obi-Wan said, his expression almost bored, as she came in.   
“I am. I’m also Olei’s granddaughter. He sends his troublesome subjects to me; if someone is withholding information, I retrieve it. That’s how things work.”  
“We’ve told you all the information we have,” you said, frustrated. “There’s nothing more to say.”  
“You’ve told us lies.” Lavina tilted her head. “I’m to find out why the Jedi is here, and why you are here, girl. What’s your name?”  
You didn’t answer.  
She approached you and swiftly tugged at a lock of your hair. “Name.”  
“Ojia,” you said, saying the first name that came into your head and thinking of your friend back on Coruscant. “Ojia Thrin’vet.”   
“Hm.” She levelled her eyes at you. “You look familiar. I’ve seen you before.”  
Your stomach dropped. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before. If I had, I would have stayed as far away from here as possible.”  
“Well. If you’re going to play that way, it’ll only be more fun for me.” She gave another tug to your hair, this time harder, and then stepped up to Obi-Wan, leaning towards him.  
“Jedi,” she said contemplatively. “My grandfather is the only Force wielder here. Why do you come?”  
“Unintentionally, I assure you.”  
“Why are you with this girl?”  
“We were on a passenger ship together, and it malfunctioned. We were placed in an escape pod together, which unfortunately crashed here. Might I ask you a question?”  
A brief look of surprise crossed Lavina’s face; clearly, she was used to being in control, but she nodded.  
“Your grandfather is a Force user, but how was he not identified by the Jedi? Myrana’s system is well documented by the Republic.”  
“Not our planet. We’re ignored here, for the most part. The Republic seems to want nothing to do with us.” Lavina grinned widely. “But that has its benefits. We make our own laws here, as you’ll see.” She reached for your hair again, and you stiffened, but this time, instead of tugging, she shoved your head back. The back of your head collided painfully with the wall and you gasped, your vision darkening for a moment.   
“If your pretty friend’s skull means anything to you, then I’d suggest you tell me why you’re here,” Lavina said, and she pulled from her pocket a blaster. “I find that the butt of a blaster works more effectively than walls.” She brought it down over your head and you struggled to not cry out as stars passed in front of your eyes. Obi-Wan watched unemotionally.  
Stupid, unattached Jedi.   
“You can do that all day,” he said. “The answer remains the same. We did not come here on purpose.” His face was so serene that you couldn’t help the wave of bitterness that rose up inside you towards him.   
“Maybe I will.” She brought the blaster down again. You were biting your lip so hard that you were probably drawing blood; a dark tunnel closed on your sight and very slowly opened up again.   
And Obi-Wan, that unfeeling man, laughed. You looked up dizzily, feeling betrayed, and fighting back the tears that were unwanted. Come on, Y/N, be a Senator. Be more courageous than this, you reprimanded yourself, but stars, blasters could hurt.   
“You forget who I am,” he said coldly. “I’ve been trained since I was a child to not have attachments. Your tactics are useless.”  
“Hm.” Lavina considered him. “Prove your detachment, then, Master Jedi.”  
“In what manner?” he inquired, as though asking about dinner.  
“Use the Force. Choke her.”  
“I would do that willingly, to prove our honesty, but as you may recall I’m bound to the Force inhibitors,” Obi-Wan said, nodding to his hands.   
“Fine, then.” Lavina slapped the blaster in his hands, which he held awkwardly due to their cuffs. “Shoot her. Prove you’re telling the truth.”  
Here is our chance. You fought to keep the smile from your face; Lavina was too cocky to understand what she had just done. Her confidence that Obi-Wan would value the truth over anything else would be her downfall. Putting a blaster in the hands of a Jedi was not a good idea — for her, at least.   
“To kill or wound?” Obi-Wan asked. You fidgeted. We’re so close. Cut the act, Obi-Wan, and just shoot her now.   
Lavina looked you over. “Wound,” she decided. “She may still have her uses.”  
Obi-Wan gripped the blaster tightly, determination crossing his face — come on, let’s go, let’s get out of here, you told him silently, hiding your smile as he got a better hold of the weapon.   
And then, instead of taking his chance and shooting at Lavina, he pointed the blaster towards you, and fired.


	10. Rooftops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan devises a plan involving your acting skills, a hairpin, and nimble-footed running.

You bit back a cry of pain when the blaster bolt hit your foot. It was a well aimed shot to wound, not kill, just like Lavina wanted, and for all the stars in the galaxy you couldn’t understand why he hadn’t just shot at Lavina instead. In fact, you weren’t sure what hurt more — the acute burning in your right foot, or the disbelief rippling through you.  
Lavina. You despised her. She hovered near Obi-Wan, flirting with her eyes and leaning in, and it made you sick to your stomach. Your foot was throbbing so horribly that tears were coming to your eyes, but you refused to make a sound while she was in the room.  
“I don’t like you, but I must say, that was attractive,” Lavina said, tracing Obi-Wan’s face with a painted nail. “If it weren’t for my grandfather’s orders, I think I’d have you shoot her again, and this time to kill.”  
“Don’t be sadistic.” Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow at her. “As a Jedi I’m required to advise you against any sort of killing whatsoever.”  
“Of course you are.” She planted a kiss on his cheek. Obi-Wan leaned away.  
“You forget that my apathy goes both ways,” he told her. “I care nothing for this girl traveling with me, and I care nothing for you, either.”  
“I suppose that’s fair,” she said finally. “Jedi, when you’re ready to explain things to me, let me know. And you, girl — unless you want a burn on your second foot, I suggest you start opening up sometime soon.” And she vacated the room, a spring in her step and humming.   
The moment she was gone, you turned to Obi-Wan furiously. “You traitor!”  
“If I were a traitor, I would have shot Lavina,” Obi-Wan replied, his voice level. His response caught you off-guard.   
“I— what? How does that even make sense?”  
“Shooting Lavina wouldn’t have got us anywhere. You must understand, though, that I didn’t want to shoot you.” He looked at you in earnest. “Y/N, it was the safest option for us.”  
“But—” You struggled for words. “You could have shot her, and then we could have escaped!”  
“Y/N, I truly am sorry. I tried to aim somewhere where it will heal the quickest.”  
“Brilliant! So now I’ll have a quickly healing blaster bolt injury while we rot away in this stupid house! You don’t know what it felt like having you turn towards me like that and shoot at me like I was a droid, or a Separatist, or...” You couldn’t even put into words the feeling of betrayal settling around you like a cloud.  
Obi-Wan winced. “I was trying to help. If I had shot Lavina, what would have happened?”  
You didn’t answer.   
“What would have happened?” he repeated, before answering it himself. “If I killed her, we would have been stuck here until someone came to investigate, at which point we’d be punished severely for murdering Olei’s granddaughter. And if I’d merely wounded her, she would have either hurt us in retaliation, called in backup, or left us here to rot. None of those options would have let us escape.”  
“Then how was shooting me any better?!” you demanded.   
“It was the only way I could get her to comply with us. Please, Y/N, tell me how shooting her with a blaster would have benefitted us!”  
“I don’t know!” you said, choking down the lump in your throat. “I don’t know, Obi-Wan, I’m not a Jedi! I’m not trained to be in wars! I’m supposed to sit in conference rooms and discuss politics with other equally dull-minded people!”  
“You’re not dull-minded.” Obi-Wan said this with such vehemence that it startled you. “Y/N, you are the farthest person from dull-minded I’ve ever met.”  
“I beg to differ,” you said, turning away. “I don’t know the things you do, I can’t fight and strategize like you — kriff, I’m too thick to be sensitive to the Force—”  
“Force sensitivity has no correlation to intelligence,” Obi-Wan said, “and you are the most intelligent, inquisitive person I have had the pleasure to know.” You opened your mouth to argue but he persisted. “And if you think you’re dull-minded, then I’ll have to conclude that your only fault is a disturbingly shortsighted perception of your own capabilities. You’re bright, curious, and a blindingly pure, white light in the Force.” He halted abruptly, as though he hadn’t intended to say those things. “Shooting you was the best option available. I’m very sorry for the pain it caused, but you could have been in more danger if I refused Lavina. I was trying to protect you.”  
You turned your head away, eyes burning at the praise he had given you. “I understand.”  
“But more importantly, I shot you so that we can escape.”  
Your attention was caught. “What exactly do you mean? How can we escape from a burn in my foot?”  
He grinned. “Lavina has a hair pin. A hair pin that will conveniently unlock my cuffs if I can get a hold of it.”  
The corners of your lips started to lift despite yourself and the pain in your foot. “And how exactly do you plan on getting that pin?”  
“With your acting skills.” He nodded to your foot. “I need to to act in pain.”  
“I daresay that won’t require much acting,” you said dryly.  
“Severe pain. I need you to get her attention,” he said. “We need to get her to bend low enough to inspect your foot. Which is when you grab the pin with your feet without her knowing.”  
The smile slid off your face. “That’s your plan? There are so many ways it could go wrong! She might not bend down! I might not have time! Even if I do, she’s certain to feel my foot on her head!”  
“So be quick about it, then, and get the pin to me as soon as you obtain it.” He raised his eyebrows. “I suppose it’s a good thing you’re barefoot, then?”  
You sighed. “When do we put this ridiculous plan of yours into action?”  
“As soon as you’re ready,” he told you. You winced; this was not going to go well. 

The plan began with you screaming as loudly as you could. As expected, Lavina came into the room, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.   
“Stars, quiet down!” she shouted. “You want to disturb the whole town?”  
You continued to shriek, writhing where you were chained to the wall. “Kriff! My foot!”  
“Silence! It’s only a blaster wound!”  
You ignored her and began to sob loudly, letting your head hang. Lavina was no fool, though, and she stamped her foot impatiently.  
“This is all a ploy,” she said. “I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to irritate me so I’ll release you. Well, you can stop trying, because it’s not going to work.”  
Maybe she’s not as clever as I thought. You took encouragement in the fact that she had admitted the screaming was annoying, and persisted.   
“For the love of the galaxy, shut up!” Obi-Wan said beside you, playing his part as well. “It’s a blasted burn, nothing more.”  
“I’ll make it hurt more if you keep this up,” Lavina snarled. She held up her hand threateningly. “You want it to be worse? I’ll give you something to scream about.”  
“Please, no,” you begged, crying with prominent sniffles, and all the while imploring her silently to just bend down by your feet.   
It was as though she were listening to your thoughts. She bent down, and with a vengeful twisting of her bare hand, dug into your open wound. This time, your scream was authentic, but through your blurry vision you managed to remember the task at hand and groped at her hair with your feet, trying to grasp the pin—  
“How does that feel?” she demanded, pinching the burn. You gasped, grabbed the pin, and played it off with a kick to her head. Lavina stumbled back, her eyes flashing.   
“Stars. You’re not worth it. I’m going to get permission from my grandfather to just kill you.” With that, she stalked away, seemingly unaware that her hair had fallen despite being pinned up only a minute before.   
“Are you alright?” Obi-Wan asked concernedly, but you shook your head to answer, gritting your teeth and swallowing the massive lump sitting in your throat.  
“I’m fine. Here.” You flicked your foot upward and Obi-Wan adroitly caught the pin with his cuffed hands. Almost an instantly later he had unlocked the cuffs, and stretched, a smile stretching across his face.   
“Reunited?” you asked. He nodded, flexing his hand, and holding it outward. The chains popped off of your own wrists and you promptly stumbled, trying to stay on your uninjured foot. Obi-Wan was beside you in a moment, steadying you with his hands.  
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked again. “Blaster burns are not to be ignored.”  
“I’ve been better, but it really is fine,” you said, perhaps lying a tad, but you were unwilling to complain to a Jedi of some pain in your foot. You played it off with a snide remark. “I’m going to remember this, you know. You shooting me in the foot is something I promise I will not let go, ever.”  
“I thought we already agreed that I saved you from a worse fate by shooting you?”  
“You said that. I agreed to nothing of the sort.” You followed Obi-Wan towards the door, which was mercifully unlocked; Lavina apparently had no notions whatsoever that you would leave. That is, until a moment later, when you could hear her shout of disdain.   
“She’s realized we’re gone,” Obi-Wan said. He slammed the door of the house behind him and held out his hands again. The chair on the porch slid across to block the door.  
“And now we try to pull off yet another escape?” you asked, hobbling alongside Obi-Wan.  
“They’re coming. We need to run.” Without another word, Obi-Wan pulled you off your feet and swept you up bridal style, as though you weighed no more than a sack of potatoes.   
“What are you doing? I can run!” you said indignantly.  
“Yes,” he concurred. “But very slowly. And I intend to leave this planet with both of us intact, which I am sure will not happen if you’re limping like an old bantha.”  
“An old bantha,” you muttered, but you clung to him all the same as he began to run at a speed you could never have achieved in your wildest dreams. This, however, gave you a good vantage point of the people pursuing you behind Obi-Wan, and your eyes widened at the guards who had already seen and started to run after you.   
“They’re coming!”   
“I know that!” Obi-Wan said, and he came to a stop.   
“Why are we stopping?” You felt like a child in his arms. “And — by the way — I’m slowing us down; you should just leave me here, and then you can get away.”  
“Don’t be absurd. And we’re not stopping. We’re going up.” Obi-Wan bent, and with a spry jump, he leapt up to the top of the building, you cringing at the unexpected ascension.   
“We’re escaping over the rooftops,” you observed numbly, looking at the distance between housetops. “Are you sure you can clear that? It’s a far jump in between.”  
“I’m positive. I’d suggest closing your eyes, though, if it helps.”  
You heeded his suggestion and closed your eyes. The sensation of Obi-Wan’s footfalls, then jumping, soaring through the air, and landing far more lightly than humanly possible on each rooftop was perhaps the most disconcerting thing you had ever experienced, but not entirely horrible, either, for you found yourself opening up your eyes soon and — if you dared say it — enjoying the brief moments of near flight.   
“Where are we going?” you shouted. “The rooftops won’t go on forever.”  
“Do you have any ideas? I’m a bit preoccupied with—” He paused to jump a particularly long distance between rooftops, and you fought to refrain from gasping in fear “—escaping these guards.”  
“If we go back to the ground, maybe we can find a ship to borrow.”  
“‘Borrow’. Interesting synonym for stealing.”  
“Well, I’m not feeling particularly benevolent towards this town at the moment.”   
“Hold on,” Obi-Wan said suddenly, and he changed direction, jumping across the street to a different row of houses. For a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to make it, but then he landed agilely on the sloped roof. He continued his trek, and you began to relax, losing sight of the guards.  
That is, until the sound of a blaster went off, and Obi-Wan was forced to contort his body in midair, sending the both of you to the left of the rooftop he had intended to land on, and plummeting towards the ground below.


	11. The Ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Obi-Wan make a daring move in order to get off of Yrow.

You would have been impaled by a fence below you if Obi-Wan hadn’t caught you with the Force. He himself landed on his feet, and slowly lowered you to the ground.   
“Thank you,” you said, trembling from adrenaline. If he hadn’t been quick enough, that fence would now be sticking through the middle of your chest.   
“They’re there!” a voice shouted from behind, and blaster bolts rained towards you. Obi-Wan deflected them with his ‘saber.  
“There’s a ship there!” you shouted, pointing to the left. “See it?” You began to jog as quickly as you could with your lame foot, putting much more weight on it than was comfortable, as Obi-Wan stayed behind, blocking every incoming bolt. You boarded the ship and slammed the button to close the door once Obi-Wan was on, then limped alongside him to the cockpit and ran your fingers over the buttons.   
“Do you know how to fly this?” you asked, beginning to panic at the array of unknown lights and buttons.   
“Not this model.” He pulled a lever and the engine shuddered to a start. There was a banging on the outside, and then the sound of blaster bolts hitting the doors.   
“They’re going to get through.” Obi-Wan looked at you grimly. “I need you to fly this. I’ve got to take care of them.” He didn’t wait for you to answer and leapt to the back of the ship, igniting his ‘saber.  
“Blast it!” you said to yourself, grabbing the wheel. “Oh, blast, blast, blast—”  
The ship rose shakily off the ground and flew forward. You screamed, jerking the wheel to the left, and it clipped the side of a three-story building. You nearly fell out of your seat at the collision, and hoped desperately that Obi-Wan, wherever he was, had not been pitched off.   
Okay. What lever makes us go up? You tested a small gray throttle and the ship began to slow to a halt. That’s not right.   
An orange throttle caught your eye. You tested it out, and sure enough, the ship began to rocket forward above the trees. From behind, you heard a loud thumping, and then footsteps coming in. You whirled around, ready to fight if necessary — but to your relief, it was Obi-Wan emerging into the cockpit, and no one else. He had a scratch on his face, but nothing more.   
“Please, take over,” you said, stepping aside. “I’m no flyer.”  
“I gathered as much.” He took the throttle and started forward with ease. “Although you seem to be a fast learner. This isn’t an easy model of a ship to fly.”  
“Then how are you doing it so easily, if you said you’ve never flown it before?”  
“I’m a Jedi. I’m trained to do this sort of thing.”  
“Hm.” You flopped into the adjacent seat. “We’ve got reception now. I’ll download the datapad information.”  
“Excellent. And then send it straight to the Jedi Council, please. Master Yoda will be pleased to have this information of Grievous’s.”  
You plugged the datapad into the system. It flickered to life and began to transfer the data.   
“First you saved me from a pirate, then Maul tried to assassinate you. Then we infiltrate Grievous’s ship and escape. We crash landed on an uncivilized planet, endured a witch of a woman, and managed to escape from that.” You grinned. “I think I’d like to be around you Jedi more often. There’s nothing you can’t survive.”  
He turned to frown at you, his forehead creasing. “You can’t give just me the credit. Half of what you listed was your own doing. I’ve come to the conclusion that we make a rather successful team.”  
At his words, your heart fluttered slightly. Never had you been recognized like this before, as someone who was capable of something, and coming from Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi… it was disarming.   
It didn’t take long for Obi-Wan to put in the coordinates of Coruscant and enter hyperspace. You stared out the window, transfixed by the glowing blue lights. “Strange that I never knew that planet was inhabited.”  
“It’s a small population there. There are probably thousands of planets in the galaxy that have civilization we don’t even know of.”  
“But this one was in my system. I rule as Senator for Myrana and its surrounding planets, and I had no idea these people lived there.” You turned to Obi-Wan, crossing your arms. “I’ve got to do something for them.”  
“As a thank you gift for their hospitality?”  
“Ha, ha. No, but I want to extend an invitation for them to have representatives in the government. Perhaps that’s why they were so… disagreeable towards us. They don’t get to have any relations with other people.”  
“It’s certainly true that their lack of communication has resulted in their shortsighed perceptions of the world. They might not be compliant with your laws, though. It’s a dangerous game, cooperating with people that are as dissimilar from your own ideals as a Gungan is to a Nightsister.”   
You chuckled at the analogy. “True. But I can’t continue to do my duties as Senator knowing they’re there. I’ll send an invitation for them to meet for a diplomatic dinner, and we can discuss terms between us, if they’d like to be a part of Myrana’s coalition.”  
“There aren’t many Senators that care about their jobs like you do,” Obi-Wan told you, respect in his eyes, and your heart did a small flip-flop in your chest once again — how many times could this blasted Jedi make you blush in one day?  
“Myrana is part of a system with thousands of small planets,” you said. “Each planet may be small, but altogether, that’s millions of people that are living without much representation. Maybe this was a wake-up call for the system.”  
“You’re not suggesting that you rally all of the planets in the system at once? That’s ambitious for even the most accomplished diplomats in the galaxy.”   
“Well, they might not all agree to join, but it’s worth the effort.” You stood up and began to pace. “Imagine if I can get all of these small planets to join Myrana. We could provide more medics, supplies, and resources to the Republic.”  
Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face. “So far, all of these planets have been discounted because each of them are too small to matter greatly in the war. But altogether… it could turn the tide. Myrana’s system is colossal.”  
“It stretches from near the center of the galaxy to almost the Outer Rims,” you confirmed. “Large, vastly unexplored, and overflowing with food and people that could help us win.”  
“I think you’re onto something,” Obi-Wan said. “But for now, I’m just glad we got off that rather inhospitable planet.”

Far behind, back on the planet Yrow, Olei and his granddaughter stood passively on the outskirts of the village, where destruction lay.   
Several homes had been destroyed by the reckless flight of the ship that the girl and the Jedi had taken. They now lay in ruins, their former occupants rummaging for their belongings with tears on their faces and hatred in their eyes.   
“We’ll give money to them,” Lavina said. “They can rebuild their homes with the fundings. I’ve spoken with the bank and they’ve agreed to help us compensate them for all of their belongings.”  
“Good.” Olei placed his hands behind his back. “And our noble guards who were killed… we need to bury them.”  
The corpses had still not been moved. They lay almost carelessly about, fallen from the sky where the Jedi had mercilessly thrown them off.   
“They did their duty and were murdered for it,” Lavina said quietly. “They didn’t deserve these deaths.”  
“How did it happen?”  
“Grandfather, surely you don’t want to hear the grisly details—”  
“Tell me.”  
Lavina drew in a breath. “The criminals ambushed me and managed to escape. The guards pursued them as best they could, because I told them to not let them out of their sight.” Her voice broke slightly. “I shouldn’t have given them such strict orders, or they might not have been killed.”  
“You did your responsibility in trying to get the criminals back,” Olei said gently. “Don’t blame yourself.”  
“The Jedi was using the rooftops. He was carrying the girl, who was injured by his own doing, in an attempt to trick me into thinking he did not care for her. They jumped down and stole old Mr. Erton’s prized ship, and boarded. Seven of the guards also managed to jump on. But the Jedi… he slaughtered them all. Cut them with that laser weapon and then pushed their bodies off of the ship. If they weren’t dead by the laser, they were surely killed by the impact of the ground. I’m so sorry. There were so many needless deaths.”  
“Don’t fret, Lavina. We’ll avenge them.”  
Lavina looked to him, her face streaked with tears. “How? They’re gone!”  
“I scanned the girl’s blood that was left behind in your house.”  
“Did you get her identity?”  
Olei began to smile. “I did. She is none other than Senator L/N of Myrana.” He turned his gaze back to the sky. Somewhere out there, that Senator and her Jedi had escaped, thinking they were in safety… but they were going to underestimate him. “I promise you, Lavina, they will rue the day they set foot on Yrow.”


	12. Return to Coruscant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan helps patch you up before you speak with Mace Windu and Yoda.

“Blast.” You gripped the edges of your chair tightly, forcing yourself not to squirm. Obi-Wan was bent at your feet, cleaning out the wound on your foot. You hadn’t dared to look at it yet.   
“This might sting a bit,” he warned, and poured a chemical over the burn. You had to bite your tongue to keep from making a sound. Out of morbid curiosity you peered downward to see it. There was a chunk of flesh burned completely off of your foot, and it was mangled, red, and torn. You swallowed nausea and leaned back again.  
“And now I just need to put bacta on it.” Obi-Wan seemed to like to narrate what he was doing. You weren’t entirely sure if it made you more or less queasy, but he was nonetheless very gentle, and his hands were light as they brushed against your foot. “All done.”  
You flexed your foot, enjoying the warmth that radiated from the bacta ointment. “Thank you so much.”  
“It’s the least I can do, seeing as I’m the reason you’re hurt.” He stood up again and stoically flipped the hood of his cloak up. “We have six hours until we reach Coruscant. I’m going to meditate. Let me know if you need anything.” He bowed deeply to you and then exited.   
You found yourself missing his presence. He was an anchor to reality, but also fascinating to listen to, and humorous, and — if you were presumptuous enough to call him this — a friend. But you had to return to Myrana, and he needed to go back to the Jedi Order. Maybe your paths would cross again, you hoped. But for the time being, you decided to enjoy the time with him before life returned to its mundane normal. 

The traffic on Coruscant was particularly busy, so even once you descended into the atmosphere, it took an hour to get to the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan landed the ship in the hangar and led the way off, placing his hands inside of the sleeves of his robes.   
“I’ve got to find a ship to Myrana now,” you began awkwardly as a way of saying farewell. “Everything you did, Obi-Wan, to save me… I can’t thank you enough.”  
“And I can’t thank you enough for what you did — such as taking Grievous’s datapad, for one. You might have stopped several attacks that could have been devastating to the Republic.” He beckoned you forward. “But this isn’t goodbye yet, I’m afraid. Master Windu and Master Yoda would like to speak to you.”  
Your heart seized in your chest. “What? Me?”  
“Yes. For the report of our mission.”  
“But you were there the whole time! Couldn’t you just fill in for me?”  
He laughed. “That’s the way these reports work. Believe me, I don’t like them either. There’s nothing more irritating than having to stand in front of the Council after an exhausting mission and relate everything you experienced, when you want nothing more than a refresher and a bed.”  
“Can I just get ready first?”  
“I’m afraid they want us to deliver the report now, before we have a chance to forget the details. Master Windu is quite demanding about it.”   
You ran your hands through your hair. “Obi-Wan, I’m wearing used slippers we found on the ship — my hair is tangled — I’ve got dirt all over me and I’m limping — you can’t expect me to go in front of the Jedi Council!” Your voice raised an octave.  
“I don’t. Master Windu does.”  
The logic of his vexing answer was enough to scowl at him. “You’re not helping.”  
“Don’t worry. I’ll do most of the talking.”  
True to his word, Obi-Wan delivered a thorough narrative of what happened, starting from the beginning of the mission and your endeavors to get Grievous to stop the attack on Myrana, to the narrow escape off of Yrow. In fact, he covered it so well that you were hoping that you’d get to leave the chamber without having to speak a word, but Master Yoda seemed to have other plans.   
“Critical your role was, Y/N. But curious the actions of the Yrow people is. No love for the government, they had?”  
“No, Master Yoda. Obi-Wan and I agreed to not reveal my identity as the Senator, based on their aggressive reaction towards Myrana and its leadership.”  
“Hm. Dangerous, is trouble stirring on Yrow. Possible Separatist alliances. Anger festering. Hm. Develop a plan, you should, to rein in these rebellious planets.”  
“I agree,” you said, your voice shaking slightly out of nerves. “I was… my plan was to address their independence when I return to Myrana. I want to extend an invitation for them to have representation in the government. Do you think this is a sound idea, or do you think the offer will only drive them further away?”  
Yoda knocked his knotted stick against the ground. “That is for you to decide, Senator L/N. Elected, you were, and lead, you must.”  
The corners of Obi-Wan’s mouth lifted slightly at this and you had to keep from wrinkling your nose at him. He was getting far too much enjoyment out of this.  
“My hope is that an extension of kindness will lead to benevolence between our planets. I was previously unaware there was even civilization on Yrow, so perhaps engaging in trade with them would put them in the favor of the Republic. I might also…” You hesitated. “I might make a visit there soon, too. I don’t think that appearing via holo would endear me to them.”  
Yoda smiled. “Yes, yes, diplomat you are. Understand human nature, you do. Now, depend on the Force, and your tact as Senator, the fate of Yrow will.”  
“That’s not all.” Your voice was small, ill-becoming of a Senator, especially one who sought to achieve what you were about to propose to them. You cleared your throat and continued with a louder voice. “I hope to rally as many of the planets in Myrana’s system as I can, and get them to support the Republic in the Clone Wars. Their neutrality is consequently harming us, as they are blocking trade routes. They also have supplies and sustenance that could be pivotal in the war.”  
“That is a bold proposition,” Master Windu said, his dark eyes unblinking. “You’re talking about gathering support from thousands of planets that are currently loyal to none but their own locals.”  
“Yes.” You stood straighter. “If I can secure some of the more populated planets, then that might set an example for the rest, including Yrow. I intend to reward the planets in my system and help them to see that being part of the Republic is not only a win for us, but for them as well.”  
“You have a plan, then?”  
“I’m developing it,” you said, thinking it best not to overestimate yourself in the presence of the Jedi, who seemed to be able to detect lies. “I only thought of this with Obi— Master Kenobi on the ship to Coruscant.” You cursed yourself at this disrespectful slip of the tongue. Calling him Obi-Wan instead of Master Kenobi was like walking up to the Chancellor and calling him Sheev. You were so distracted by your own mortification that you nearly missed what Master Windu said next.   
“Senator, your actions are wise.” His voice was solemn and you had to keep from shrinking back in the face of such intimidation. “There aren’t many politicians I would trust with this task, but you have proven yourself to be resourceful. However, don’t underestimate the people on that planet. Your life may depend on it.”  
With that ominous warning, you and Obi-Wan were dismissed.


	13. Split

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Obi-Wan must part ways as you return to Myrana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry it took so long for this update. 
> 
> I moved into college this week and life has been insane; homesickness is kicking my butt to say the least. Because of this I didn't really get to edit the chapter much so I apologize for any typos. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!

The sun was just falling over Coruscant’s horizon when you left the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan escorted you out. The sunlight fell in a golden beam over his hair, making it even more copper than usual, and illuminating his eyes.  
“It was splendid working with you,” you said as professionally as you could, extending your hand. Obi-Wan took it and shook firmly.  
“I agree,” he said. “Perhaps we’ll work together again soon. I wish I could stay here longer, but I have important business to attend to with the Council.” He bowed to you, smiled one last time, and left. The smile faded off your face slightly. You knew Obi-Wan was a Jedi and therefore trained to be detached to others, but his swift goodbye still stung a bit, if you were honest with yourself. You watched his retreating back with a bit of sadness. It was only to be expected that he wouldn’t be sentimental about a goodbye to someone he had only known for a short time, you told yourself, but that didn’t prevent the empty feeling in your chest. You finally shook your head and turned away from the Temple towards the ship that was to take you to Myrana.  
“Hello,” you said to the clone officer standing at the front. “Y/N L/N. I’m here for flight 43B2A to Myrana.”  
“You can board,” he said. “I’ll take your luggage, ma’am. Ship departs in twenty minutes.”  
“Thank you,” you told him, and entered the passenger deck of the ship, where there were a few other people sitting quietly. You took a seat by a window, alone, and pulled a book out of your bag. It was strange to pick up where you left off; it made time seem like it had hardly passed, but so much stood between right now and the last time you had picked up the book.  
The rest of the passenger deck slowly filled up as people filed in. Most were human or Nautolan, and most likely had been visiting Coruscant for business, seeing as the war discouraged vacations. Myrana was predominantly occupied by humans on its terrestrial regions, and Nautolans along the coastlines. You smiled politely to a Nautolan mother who sat across from you, bouncing a child in her lap, and then went back into your book, ignoring all of your surroundings. The ship took off shortly after, and fortunately the traffic was thin enough that it didn’t take long to enter hyperspace. You hardly noticed; your book was enthralling enough to keep you from glancing up once.  
“Interesting pick. I would have thought you were more into romance than a thriller.”  
You jumped, so startled that you nearly dropped the book. “Obi-Wan! What are you doing here? This flight is for Myrana!”  
“Good. That’s my destination.”  
The words didn’t quite process in your mind. “But you’re to return to the Clone Wars. The Jedi Council—”  
“—spoke with me and I requested to serve in the Clone Wars in the best way I can.”  
You narrowed your eyes at him. “How does your presence in Myrana serve the Clone Wars? The war isn’t at Myrana right now. We’re at peace.”  
“You just said yourself that getting an alliance with the planets in your system was crucial to the Republic. I agree. If we can get them on our side, we’re opening up routes, trade, resources, and so much more that it really could change the tide of the war.”  
“And you don’t think I can do that on my own?” you asked, crossing your arms.  
“I think you’re more than capable, and that’s why I think you’re going to end up traveling to many of these planets. You know that this isn’t going to be smooth, and that your reception could be hostile on some planets. The Council agreed with me that a Jedi protector, and advisor, would be a wise move.”  
You put your bookmark in your book and slid it into your bag. “Alright. Fair enough, then, Master Jedi, I guess I’ll tolerate your company.”  
“That should be easy enough, seeing as I don’t ask nearly as many questions as someone else I know does.”  
You grinned. “Point taken.”  
“Will you accompany me to the upper deck?” he asked. “I don’t particularly like flying on the lower passenger deck. Actually, I’m not fond of flying at all.”  
“Of course.” You stood up and together went up the stairs that led to the empty upper deck, where there were no seats but instead wide windows that opened up to the blurring blue streaks of hyperspace. Obi-Wan stood next to you, gazing out the window, and placidly put his hands in the sleeves of his cloak. You couldn’t help but smile widely. His presence next to you was comforting, like a crackling fireplace that kept you warm.  
“Tolerating me might be an understatement,” Obi-Wan said, casting you an insolent smirk.  
The smile slid off your face. “Are you sensing my emotions?”  
“I can hardly ignore them. Your signature is positively glowing right now.”  
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Like you said, we make a good team, don’t we? I’m only excited for the prospective success of our mission.”  
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he added quickly. “It’s actually very pleasant. Most people on this ship have dark, murky, or tainted signatures. Imagine that their aura is colored with the stains of frustration, anger, sadness, hatred... Yours is the purest here, by far.”  
“Hm.” Somehow you doubted that your signature was as pure as Obi-Wan described it. “I wish I had the Force. Actually, scratch that — I wish I had a lightsaber.”  
“They’re not as amazing as you’d think,” Obi-Wan said, his hand absently trailing to where his ‘saber hung on his belt.  
“How so? Isn’t that lightsaber your life?”  
“It is. But I’ve done things with it that I regret.”  
You were surprised. “I had no idea.”  
“In war I’ve made quick decisions that later, upon reflection, I can’t help but question.” He said this flatly, as though stating an irrefutable fact.  
“You can’t regret that, though,” you said. “That’s the nature of a quick decision. It’s the best we can do under the circumstances, so of course it might not be the same as if we had time to vacillate.”  
“Yes, but that doesn’t take away the feeling. The things I’ve done with this lightsaber are horrifying. I’m a Jedi — I’m supposed to uphold peace, not cut things down with my weapon.” He stared blankly out into hyperspace, a sad downward twist to his lips. You suddenly felt an enormous pang of regret for suggesting that you’d like to wield a lightsaber. Gently, you reached out and put your hand on his shoulder. He twitched at first, as though he didn’t expect the move, but then relaxed underneath your touch.  
“You can tell me anything, you know that?” you said. “I mean, I know I’m a nobody, but if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here.”  
Obi-Wan’s blue eyes turned to you. “You’re not a nobody.”  
“That doesn’t matter,” you insisted, wary of the conversation focusing on you rather than him. “I’m just saying that I would never judge you in a thousand years.”  
Obi-Wan returned his gaze to hyperspace. “I think I just need to meditate over what happened on Yrow. I wounded some of the guards chasing us, and they fell off the ship as we were escaping. It was my actions that caused them to perish.”  
“You acted in self-defense. There’s nothing else you could have done.”  
“Maybe there was. And now…” Obi-Wan closed his eyes. “I sense unrest on Yrow. I can’t pinpoint it, as it’s rather vague, but it’s there.”  
“We’re going to take care of this, together,” you said encouragingly. “We’ll get the planets to rally behind us. Yrow will come around.”  
“I hope you’re right.” Obi-Wan detached himself, pulling up his hood, and began to walk away. At the doorway, though, he turned around. “Please don’t take my meditation as a personal offense. I actually need to think about what you’ve said… as I’m suspicious that you may perhaps be right.”  
“Don’t sound too surprised,” you said, smiling at him. “I’d never take it as an offense. I know you’re a mystical guy.”  
He laughed. “‘A mystical guy’? I think that’s the best label I’ve ever received in my life.” He bowed to you and then left for a private room.  
You continued smiling even after he left, then turned to the vivid streaks of blue out the window. Not only were you going home, but Obi-Wan would be by your side.


	14. On Myrana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Obi-Wan land on Myrana and you tell him about the people you work with.

“Senator L/N, you have been missed dearly.” Raj, the Nautolan representative, shook your hand at the landing platform. He approached Obi-Wan, extended his hand cheerfully. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Raj Erun, elected representative of the aquatic residents of Myrana.”  
“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Obi-Wan said.   
“He takes care of all things under the sea,” you said, grinning at Raj. “Come on. I’ll show you the City Hall.”  
You led Obi-Wan into a vestibule and took an elevator down to the street together. The city you lived in, Quouti, was coastal, and therefore accessible by both humans and Nautolans. The streets were paved a soft coral pink and tall, leafy trees lined the sidewalks. Buildings stretched to the clouds — airy, glass buildings that allowed the sunlight to glimmer and reflect. On the horizon was the ocean; an expansive carpet of broiling cerulean that never stood still. In fact, the waves in Quouti were renowned for being some of the tallest in the galaxy, and attracted all sorts of aquatic beings for adventurous vacations.   
“I came to Myrana once, with Master Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan told you as you meandered down the street together. “I remember being in awe of the waves here.”  
“They’re certainly a sight to behold,” you agreed. “But not so much fun to swim in, unless you’re Nautolan. It’s like jumping into a hurricane.”  
“You’ve swam in it before?”  
“I’ve never dared. My father surfed, though, and he nearly killed himself dozens of times.”  
“There’s the City Hall.” You pointed ahead to a domed glass building. “There’s a couple people you should know about. You already met Raj. He’s mostly relaxed and stays out of political matters as much as he can. I think he was forced into the role, similarly how I had little choice in becoming Senator. Then there’s Tesha. She’s the foreign relations advisor. But, just a bit of advice… don’t get into a conversation with her if you don’t have to. She’s recently taken a negative view of the Jedi.”  
“As has much of the galaxy. I won’t be offended,” Obi-Wan assured you.  
“Then there’s the representative for humans, Poole. He’s relatively quiet. I doubt he’ll speak unless spoken to.”  
“Representative for humans? Are there no other terrestrial races here?”  
“There are, but just not many. I should be more precise. Poole is the representative for all terrestrial races on Myrana, 99% of which are human.”  
“And there’s you.”  
“There’s me,” you agreed. “I’m the underqualified Senator who is somehow supposed to represent the collective opinions of the Myrana Assembly and report to Coruscant.”  
“I imagine Tesha will be heavily involved in our pursuit of alliances with the other planets in the system, then, if she’s the foreign relations advisor.”  
“Probably.” You wrinkled your nose at the thought. “I’ll keep her at bay as much as I can.” The prospect of Tesha accompanying you and Obi-Wan was highly unappealing.   
“So, divulge your mastermind strategy.”  
You gestured towards the stone path that diverged from the street and led down to the sandy beach. “If you really want to hear me monologue, then we might as well enjoy the view.”   
Together you walked down the stairs, where the beach was empty. Waves roared in the distance, rising high and crashing down on the sand with a vengeance. Most people were at work; even on the weekends, though, not many people came onto the beach, because unless they were of an aquatic race it was impossible to swim in the treacherous waters.   
“I have been debating whether or not to invite Olei here immediately,” you said. “But I’ve been giving it much thought and I’ve decided the best course of action is to go to Niark first. It’s the fourth largest planet in Myrana’s system and on relatively good terms with us, so I think that I can persuade their leader to ally with the Republic. Other planets will rally behind Niark as it is a supplier of food for much of the system. Then, when I’ve proved that joining Myrana and the Republic is a beneficial choice, I’m going to get in contact with Yrow and compel them to join our cause.”  
“Utterly foolproof, Senator L/N,” Obi-Wan said, grinning.   
You pushed at him playfully. “You’re making fun of me.”  
“No, I do think it’s a good plan. Your idealism is the only part I fear.”  
“Is idealism not a good thing? I’d rather have high hopes than face this with a pessimistic mindset.”  
“I don’t think your idealism will harm the operations at all,” Obi-Wan said. “In fact, I do think going into this with optimism will yield better results. People tend to sense when their leader is determined about something. Negative leadership nearly always leads to negative results.”  
“Then how do you fear my idealism?”  
“For your own sake,” Obi-Wan said, a bit more quietly. “No matter how good the plan is, there is a chance that this might not work, Y/N. I don’t want you to berate yourself if it falls through.”  
You chuckled to hide the pleasure warming in your chest at the thought that Obi-Wan cared for you. “The last thing you need to worry about is my own confidence. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’ve never thought I’m a good Senator anyway — I don’t think my opinion of myself can sink any lower.” You said this lightly and beckoned Obi-Wan forward. “Come on! We’ll be discussing the plan all week with Tesha, Raj, and Poole. We might as well enjoy today while we still have freedom.”  
“I hope you’re not suggesting we’re going swimming?”  
“Of course not. But I do know some remote caves.” You pointed ahead to where the sandy beach turned to rocky cliffs. “Want to go exploring?”  
“Well…” Obi-Wan rubbed his hand over his chin in a contemplative manner. “As I am here on the Council’s orders, and I’m to be protecting and advising you, I suppose I should accompany the Senator if she decides to recklessly venture into coastal caves.”  
“I’m sure the Council will want to hear about this, then,” you said, smirking. “They’ll want a detailed report of how you spent your time here on Myrana.”  
“Hm. Then perhaps we’ll label this as an unimportant, dull excursion.”  
“Oh, no,” you pressed. “Master Windu would be sorely disappointed if he didn’t get to hear about every single one of your exploits.”  
Amusement crossed Obi-Wan’s face. “His reaction would certainly be scornful. I do have a sense of self-preservation, though.”  
“Excellent. You’ll need it, because the caves get slippery. You’ll have to be careful.” You entertained yourself with the thought of Obi-Wan even needing help because of a slippery rock and smiled to yourself. There was no one you’d trust more to explore the caves with than him. Suddenly feeling very eager to get into the caves now, you began to jog ahead. It had been years since you had last gone inside them — the last time you went was when you still had dreams of opening up your own library on Myrana. Obi-Wan picked up the pace beside you and together you approached the towering cliffs. With an empty stretch of sand behind you, a colossal blue ocean to your right, towering skyscrapers on your left, and jagged rocks in front, you felt as though you and Obi-Wan were the only two people in the galaxy — and it was a good feeling.


	15. The Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Obi-Wan spend an evening on the coast of Myrana together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry. I haven't updated this in far too long. Long story short, I started college and it was very overwhelming, and I had hardly enough time to do all of my coursework, let alone write fan fiction. Anyway, this is a VERY short update, but I'm hoping to add more now that I have time off for winter break!

“The Force is stronger here,” Obi-Wan said as you approached the dark entrance with him. “It’s gathered naturally, as though the wind blows it gently to congregate here.”  
“My father used to say that it was once a sacred cave.” You climbed up the jagged rocks and the shadows of the cave fell across you. It sent a shiver down your body; out of the glowing evening sun, the temperature was much cooler. “He said that the children of the winds played with each other in here. I guess it’s fitting then that it seems the wind blew the Force in here.”  
You led the way through the winding tunnel. It was a remarkable cave system that branched under the cliffs, hidden entirely except for its small entrance and exit. Usually you brought something with you to light the way, but Obi-Wan had ignited his ‘saber and was using it to illuminate the path. The glowing reflected off the walls, casting a blue dim lighting on his face.   
“That doesn’t seem very safe,” you observed. “What if you tripped and the ‘saber went through you like a skewer?” You imagined the morbid threat. “Actually, you’d be a Jedi Shishkabob.”  
“Charming. But you’d have to be rather clumsy to do that.”  
“Hm. Should I give it a try, then?”  
He laughed. “Let me rephrase. You’d have to be inexperienced with a ‘saber for that to happen.”  
You grinned. “Or you don’t trust me to turn myself into a Senator Shishkabob.”  
“I think you’d be more likely to accidentally amputate several of your limbs, but, yes, I don’t trust you to climb slippery rocks while holding a lethal weapon.” He said this very knowingly and you snorted.   
The cave eventually turned the two of you out onto a small, sandy beach, wedged in between the towering jagged cliffs. It would be a dangerous climb to get down to the small cove without the tunnel system, and there was no other way to access it aside from the sea. You flopped down in the sand, sighing at its warmth from the sun.   
“This is beautiful,” Obi-Wan said, gazing out at the sunset over the water. “So quiet. It’s almost as though this beach is untouched by the rest of the world. Especially by the war.”  
“I’m scared war will come to Myrana,” you admitted. “I’m terrified for my people. Where the war goes, death follows.”  
“It may very well come here. But take solace in that I will do everything in my power to keep that from happening.” Obi-Wan levitated a stone idly with the force and skipped it across the waves. You watched, mesmerized. “Qui-Gon once told me an analogy for war,” he said suddenly. “It’s like the tide. When it’s high, it comes rushing in quickly, though if we pay attention we’ll notice it creeping closer. Then, when it goes away, it leaves unexpected things in its trail - both bad and beautiful.”  
“But what beautiful things can come out of war?”  
“Better governments. Changed perspectives in society, unity, stronger relationships.”  
“I suppose you’re right,” you said. “But war is indefinite. Tides we can better predict and understand.”  
The sun sank lower in the sky, but the lack of conversation between you and Obi-Wan was not penetrating, let alone quiet. Birds called out to one another, the rocks tumbled loudly about in the surf, and the hum of the breeze kept the air from getting stagnant. Once darkness crept up, though, the evening glow turned brisk. You shivered, goosebumps crawling up your arms.   
“We should turn back,” Obi-Wan said. “Especially if we don’t want to get trapped by the high tide.”  
“Yes,” you agreed, your teeth chattering. Obi-Wan helped you get back through the caverns, a hand near you at all times in case you were to fall, and then once you emerged from the cave with him, he bowed to you.   
“I’m grateful that you shared Myrana’s beauty with me,” he said diplomatically. “It was… a pleasant evening.”  
“Likewise. It felt like a reprieve from everything.”  
“Here.” He took off his cloak and wrapped it around you. You began to protest immediately, peeling it off, but he shook his head.   
“I insist. The Force keeps me warm enough. You, on the other hand, look like an akk stranded on Hoth.”  
You chuckled. “That’s a flattering image. You know how to make me feel stunning.” You accepted the cloak, tugging it around yourself. It was spectacularly warm.   
Obi-Wan brought you to your quarters, where you returned to him his cloak and bid him goodnight. But you went to bed smiling; after all, he was only in the room next to you, and though you would never tell him this, knowing he was here with you was the best sort of comfort you could ever receive.


	16. The Representative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission to recruit other planets to join the Republic turns not so fun when a fellow politician joins you and Obi-Wan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to space the paragraphs differently this time. Is it better or worse? I'd be so grateful for any feedback so that I know what to do for the next chapter!

The three days you spent at home before the journey to Niark was arranged felt quicker than a moon cycle on Uogu. As you had predicted, Tesha would be accompanying you and Obi-Wan. A strange sense of protectiveness over Obi-Wan had risen from nowhere inside of you, and you had to fight to ignore it. Tesha was your colleague, and should be treated with as much respect as everyone else. 

This was why you were currently bringing Tesha to the ship that would fly you to Niark, to negotiate with them about standing behind the Republic. 

“Representative Tesha, this is Master Kenobi, of the Jedi Order,” you said formally, stepping back as Tesha nodded to Obi-Wan, who bowed politely in return. “He will be escorting us to Niark.”

“Forgive me, Master Jedi,” Tesha said, her words diplomatic but clipped, “but I’ve only just learned of the plan to recruit Niark. Is there supposed to be danger on this mission?”

“Don’t concern yourself, Representative, I’m only coming as a precaution. Recent events on other planets in this system have made us wary, but there is no reason to believe anything dangerous will occur on Niark.” 

“I should hope not. Niark is a peaceful planet. I don’t want these negotiations to bring it to turmoil.” Tesha began to board the ship, Obi-Wan walking next to her. 

“How long have you been working as a diplomat?” Obi-Wan asked as they started up the ramp. You bit your lip, slightly alarmed at the irritation now clawing inside your chest. Obi-Wan wasn’t your personal Jedi, you reminded yourself. He also had a right to speak to and engage with other people — even people like Tesha. You wrinkled your nose slightly and followed them on board. They had taken the two seats on the left side of the cabin, so you sat down on the opposite side, pulling your book out of your bag. You were a Senator, and certainly not about to get envious of a Jedi and a Representative having a merely polite conversation. 

But really — was the laughing so necessary? You kept rereading the same paragraph over and over again. It was immensely difficult to ignore their conversation, as well as Obi-Wan’s attentive posture and eye contact with Tesha. Surely their conversation wouldn’t last longer than half an hour… yet soon an hour passed and they were still conversing quietly. You excused yourself to go to the upper deck, where it was empty and quieter. 

Everyone felt naturally territorial towards their friends, didn’t they? This… feeling inside you meant nothing. You chuckled nervously out loud at the thought of considering Obi-Wan more than a friend. He was a Jedi, for stars’ sake. No, certainly he was just a friend. For so long you had been shy around him, and now that you were finally feeling more comfortable, he could be officially called a friend of yours. That was all it was. Everyone felt protective of their friends. You reassured yourself several times of this and then went to the ‘fresher to smooth down your hair, which had gotten frizzy over the course of the day. 

As much as you didn’t want to return to where Tesha and Obi-Wan were getting to know one another, the alternative of them wondering where you were, and consequently realizing your envy, was even worse, so you forced yourself to go back down to the lower cabin. 

“Senator L/N,” Obi-Wan said as you came back down, smiling pleasantly. “I’d like you to settle a debate for us.”

“Of course,” you said, returning to your seat opposite of them and stowing your book into your bag. 

“Should the Republic allocate more credits to the planets that are starving and desperately need aid, or to the planets that have high industry, so that they can produce more weaponry for the war?” 

“No! You’re phrasing it wrong,” Tesha said, laughing — actually laughing, something you hardly ever saw her do — and she corrected him, repeating the question with a few alterations. “Should the Republic give more money to planets that need internal aid, or to planets that have a global role in the war could help us end it all with more credits to fund their industry?”

“To the planets that need immediate help,” you said instantly, and you could have sworn that Obi-Wan lips curved into a smile at your answer. “Why even persist in this war for a Republic that doesn’t bother to help its planets? Our goal, lest we forget in our bloodlust, is to keep as many systems as we can in the Republic. I assure you that there will be more Separatist planets if they don’t receive the aid that they desperately need.”

“I couldn’t have phrased it better myself,” Obi-Wan said. A warm glow raised in your cheeks at his approval of your opinion.   
“You’re just trying to play the Jedi pacifist,” Tesha said, nudging him and laughing again, and that warm glow inside of you vanished as though you had plunged into icy water. You pulled out your book again to distract yourself, and their conversation continued, but this time with more animation. 

Niark was relatively close, so the ship landed on its mossy surface only twenty minutes later. You held your head high as you exited the ship, fully aware that Tesha and Obi-Wan were now deep in discussion about trade disputes in the Outer Rims. What had happened to Tesha’s negative opinion of the Jedi? It seemed to have flown out of the window upon her introduction to Obi-Wan. 

Niark was a planet with low trees that grew to only about ten feet, and it was covered entirely in moss. A low mist hung over the landscape, clinging to the small flowers growing in between the moss and bejeweling verdant leaves with dewdrops. Ahead was the palace of the Niarkian king and queen, where the negotiations would take place. 

“I can show you to your rooms,” a young girl said, approaching you. 

“Thank you,” you said, smiling at her. “I love your hair.”

The girl turned red. “Thank you. My mum did it for me.” Niark was a diverse planet, and its citizens were from every race imaginable. This girl was a Bothan, and her mane of hair was woven with flowers. 

“We’ve got some time before the supper,” you said to Tesha and Obi-Wan as the Bothan girl brought you into the palace. “I was thinking that we could review the logistics of the negotiation, and—”

“Excellent idea,” Tesha agreed. “Master Kenobi, I’ve heard that the Jedi are fantastic diplomats. Are you here as just a bodyguard or would you be willing to join in the negotiations?”

You frowned at Tesha’s interjection. At least they weren’t a first name basis, though; that would have set your teeth on edge.

“I believe Senator L/N alluded to the idea that I might help, especially if there is tension,” Obi-Wan said modestly. “Unless, of course, you’d rather keep the negotiations between people of Myrana’s system.”

“Oh, no, I’d love for your help,” Tesha enthused, walking closer to him. “I’ve actually got several ideas of tactics, and your opinion on them would mean a lot, if you don’t mind.”

“It would be my pleasure to hear your ideas.”

Once more, they descended into a conversation. You gritted your teeth together and followed the Bothan girl to an elegant hall made of stone, where there were three adjacent guest rooms outfitted with beds, ‘freshers, and fruit. You breezed into your room and set your bag down, sighing. Honestly, you told yourself, you needed to stop thinking about Tesha and Obi-Wan. 

After all, Tesha had just as much of a right as you to be friends with him.


	17. The Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niark brings both pleasant and uncomfortable conversations between you and your companions on the mission.

The king raised his wine glass triumphantly. “To Niark, and its newfound alliance with the Republic!” 

The banquet hall erupted into clapping. You smiled into your plate of food, blushing. It had been mostly you involved in the negotiations, along with Obi-Wan. Despite all of Tesha’s “ideas” she had been sharing prior to the supper, she had fallen relatively silent during the actual discussions. The only part you weren’t quite so happy about was that now she sat in between you and Obi-Wan. 

You ignored it as much as you could, though, and had a pleasant conversation with the Togruta on your left. She told you all about the customs on Niark, and the dessert that was supposed to arrive in ten minutes — apparently, it was a token of Niarkian hospitality that was granted only to the most welcomed guests. 

The king suddenly tapped his spoon against his glass again. “There’s more!” he shouted, his voice slurring slightly from inebriation. “I hereby declare that the great Senator L/N and I will sign the treaty… tonight!”

“We really did do it, didn’t we?” you heard Tesha say, and you turned your head to see her throw her arms around Obi-Wan. In that moment, her dark hair was haloing her head, and you could see her luscious skin getting closer to Obi-Wan’s, and her sheer, beautiful dress was glimmering in the dim light — and your stomach rolled. As Obi-Wan, surprise crossing his face, gently hugged her back, the rolling in your stomach became a violent lurch. You stood up roughly, offering a quick excuse of needing to use the ‘fresher, and hurried out of the hall, your breaths coming in shortly. 

The night air was crisp on your face. You kicked off your painful heels and carried them with you, your toes sinking into the cool moss that coated all of the ground. Above, the six moons of Niark shone, floating in the sky in a wondrous arc that lit up all of the low trees across the horizon. The mist had finally cleared, but still everything remained dewy. Behind you the lights and sounds from the banquet hall were only a faint whisper, and you breathed in relief of the quiet. 

You weren’t sure where you were walking. You crossed the grounds of the palace to where a small stream cut through the moss, sat on a rock, and put your head in your hands. Tears came from nowhere, shocking you even as they flowed down your cheeks, hot and salty. 

“Y/N?” Obi-Wan’s voice said from behind you. You gasped out loud, wiping furiously at your cheeks and blinking away as much of the wetness as you could. 

He approached you. “May I sit?”

You nodded silently, afraid that if you spoke, your voice would be telling of the lump in your throat. He sat on the rock beside you, his Jedi robes tickling your arm. Neither of you said a word for at least ten minutes. 

“You should have stayed in there,” you said finally, brushing at your face again. “They’re going to wonder where we are. Oh, blast, I should never have left — they need me to sign the treaty — they’re going to ask where I was, and—”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll explain something to them,” Obi-Wan said. “And I had to follow you. I think that Yoda would be rather displeased with me if you were kidnapped or murdered on my watch. ‘Reckless, you are, Obi-Wan. Master, you are not.’” He imitated the Master Jedi’s voice and you laughed despite yourself. 

“I see,” you said dryly. “I’m an obligation.”

“Yes, of course.” His answer had equal sarcasm. “I don’t want your death to put a stain on my spotless record of protecting people.” 

There was a sudden bang from behind in the banquet hall. You flinched, but Obi-Wan didn’t move. “It’s a firecracker,” he assured you. 

“How do you know?”

“The Force,” he said simply. You would have asked what exactly a firecracker felt like through the Force, but he continued. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you told him. He raised his eyebrows at you, so you amended your phrase. “Truly, nothing is wrong, but I’m just being a stupid gundark. Really.”

He hesitated. “I… well, I admit I can sense some of your feelings.” At your look of horror, he quickly clarified. “It’s nothing intentional, I assure you. Just the way that the Force ebbs and flows, I can receive some of your general senses, but nothing very clear.” 

You didn’t feel very reassured. “Yes. Well. Then you must have sensed my discomfort in the banquet hall.”

“I did.” He waited patiently. 

You took a deep breath. “Look, Obi-Wan, I just…I mean, I don’t want to be a burden.” The words got stuck in your throat and you had to start over. “I don’t want to be a burden with this. It’s not a big deal. I just have never had a friend like you before… never have I known someone that I could trust with all of my heart.” You met his eyes. “Because I would trust you with anything. And you know that you could trust me with anything, right?”

“I do,” he said quietly. “You’re… you’re different, Y/N. The Force is grounded around you, somehow. You give me clarity.”

Remembering what Obi-Wan had just said about sensing emotions, you desperately tried to suppress the pure happiness that his words brought you. “I just care about you. You’re a… dear friend to me. That’s all it is. And I’m being ridiculous, because you’re allowed to be friends with Tesha, too, but I suppose I was jealous.” You winced at your own words. “Stars, I’m like a ten year old child. I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan.”

“Sorry?” He was surprised. “What do you have to apologize for? I understand entirely. Friendship is so precious that it’s difficult to share, even for the most selfless of us.”

His words hit you hard. “I guess you’re right. Still, I’m sorry. For drawing you away from the banquet hall, and for this entire conversation, and for—”

“Y/N. I don’t mind at all. In fact, out here with you where it’s quiet is entirely more pleasant than being in that banquet hall.” 

An icy breeze fluttered through the trees and the temperature seemed to drop in that moment. You stood suddenly, before Obi-Wan could respond to your previous statement. “Well, seeing as our Niarkian friends are waiting for us to sign the treaty, I suggest we return to the banquet hall.” 

“And I hear that there’s an impressive dessert on its way.” He offered his arm to you and you took it. Even just holding his arm made you feel better. 

Until you were once again seated next to Tesha. You could feel her eyes on you as you walked in with Obi-Wan, and you stood taller, resisting the urge to return her glare. 

“Forgive our absence, your Majesty,” Obi-Wan said, bowing to the king. “The Senator had an urgent message from Coruscant that needed a response.”

“Ah! No need to worry, my young Jedi,” the king said, slapping the table. “You can just levitate a slice of that mook fruit tart on over and I’ll be as happy as a kiln oyster.”

“No need, sir, your slice is here,” a young servant said, handing the king a slice so large that it could have been the entire tart. Obi-Wan smiled politely and sat down, accepting a small slice from another servant. 

“I’ve been to Kiark before,” Tesha said, swiveling herself around to face Obi-Wan. “And there’s two ways to eat a mook fruit tart. The first way is plain, as you’re about to do. But try a bit of this—” She proffered a dollop of cream with a spoon, and set it next to his tart. “And I promise you it will taste even better.” She leaned with her chin in her hands, waiting expectantly. Obi-Wan took a small bite and nodded in agreement. You turned away, back to the Togruta on your left, and started your own conversation again. 

After the treaty was officially signed and the banquet had finished, you returned to your room. The dress you were wearing was very airy and as the temperature dropped, goosebumps formed permanent prickles up your arms. The prospect of a shower and warm pajamas was more alluring than even the sweetest slight of mook fruit tart. 

But they had to wait, because there was a knock at your door — three raps. The servant had already come by and asked if you needed anything, so it could only be Obi-Wan. You smoothed your hair down and threw your dirty socks under your bed, then opened the door. 

The person at the door didn’t say a greeting. “Can we speak?”

You blinked in surprise. “Representative Tesha. Of course. Please, come in.” You closed the door behind her and hurried to where the servant had set a large, hot kettle. “Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you. I don’t intend to stay long.”

“What’s the matter?”

“We just need to talk, Y/N. There’s something going on that I need to address with you.” She sighed rather loudly and sat down on the couch. “You’re a young girl. Please, don’t take this the wrong way. But I’ve been in office for six more years than you and I fancy myself a bit more experienced in… well, in interpersonal relationships.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m implying that you don’t realize what you’re doing. I want you to understand that I am in no way saying you are guilty of attempting to cross me.”

“Attempting to cross you?” you echoed. Your nerves were beginning to stand on edge. “Can you first enlighten me as to what you’re upset about?”

Tesha sighed again. “You must know how I feel about Obi-Wan. Any sentient creature in the galaxy could know just by looking at us. And it’s not just me, either, because there’s undeniable attraction between Obi-Wan and me.”

“What?” you said, stunned. “He’s a Jedi! He’s forbidden to…” You blushed at saying the words aloud. “You know he’s forbidden to have an intimate relationship.”

“Forbidden, yes. Incapable, no.” Tesha rolled her eyes. “Y/N. You know you’ve seen us.”

You said nothing. Everything about Tesha was making you feel more insecure at the moment, from her good posture to her smooth accent. Your frizzy hair suddenly felt distinctly noticeable, as well as the goosebumps running up and down your skin. 

“I saw you and Obi-Wan leave the palace briefly this evening,” Tesha continued. “And I just want to make it clear that it would be highly disrespectful for you to pursue something with Obi-Wan when you’ve so obviously recognized my own connection with him. I would find it very disappointing to think that the Senator of Myrana is attempting to sabotage my bond with him.”

You spluttered out loud. “No — you have it wrong, that’s not at all what —”

“Like I said, though, you’re young.” Tesha placed her hand on top of yours as though to sympathize. “I know you don’t mean any harm. But just please back off, alright? I don’t want any trouble.”

You stiffened. “I promise you that I am not the type of person to ever interfere, but there is absolutely nothing between either of us and Obi-Wan. He’s a Jedi. You understand that, don’t you?” You employed some of her patronizing tone in response. Tesha’s eyes narrowed at your words. 

“Oh, come on. Don’t presume to know everything. Obi-Wan and I have spent more time alone together and we’ve shared quite a bit. Just because we don’t display public affection doesn’t mean there’s nothing there,” she said, and stood up abruptly. “I’m going to bed. I’m glad we cleared things up. Thank you for understanding.” She took off before you could get in another word, and you were left gaping at the door, feeling the returning waves of anger towards Tesha crashing inside of you.


	18. Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tesha gives you an ultimatum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got an outline for where this story is going, but I'd also be happy to consider any suggestions or requests, if anyone has any ideas! Let me know if there's anything you'd like to see happen or unfold and if it fits with the outline, I might add it in. This could range from specific scene requests to also just general directions (such as more h/c). 
> 
> Thank you all!! I've been having so much fun writing this and it's been even more exciting receiving such kind feedback!

“The king is requesting that he repay you for your offer,” the Bothan girl told you the next morning. She shifted from foot to foot anxiously. “He says that he would like to give you a private carriage for you and your companions to have a tour of Niark. And he also would like to send you back with — uh, I think it was 400 mook fruit pies.”

You widened your eyes. “Is there even space on our ship for that?”

“He was very adamant, ma’am. Senator. Um, my Lady.”

“You can call me Y/N,” you said, smiling. “And the tour sounds lovely. Tell the king that I would love to see more of this beautiful planet and the wonders it has to offer.”

The Bothan girl scampered off, her braid flying behind her. You entered your ‘fresher to make yourself presentable. The prospect of exploring Niark with Obi-Wan would be delightful, but unfortunately… Tesha. Her name put a bad taste in your mouth. But, you reminded yourself, you were a Senator, and such grudges were childish to hold. You resolved to keep an open mind and to treat Tesha as a friend. Perhaps kindness would make her more bearable towards you. 

You met her and Obi-Wan outside of your rooms. Obi-Wan wore his typical cream robes, with no robe today —it was warm and the humid air was already making everything sticky. His ‘saber hung at his side in full sight. Tesha looked ravishing; her hair was silky and tumbled down her back like melted chocolate, and she wore a sleeveless lavender dress trimmed with pearls. Together, you all walked down to the first floor of the palace, where the sun shone through the morning mist. Several bodyguards stood at the entrance to the throne room and the ballroom, and servants milled about, carrying breakfast platters and brooms. Tesha clapped a hand to her forehead, sighing in frustration. 

“I’ve forgotten my parasol,” she said, squinting at the sun. “And these mists are clearing — surely I’ll burn — Obi-Wan, would you possibly…?”

His face betrayed no sign of emotion. “Of course, Representative Tesha. I trust you two will be alright in the presence of the palace guards?” 

“I think we might possibly manage,” you said, grinning. 

Obi-Wan bowed deeply and started in the other direction, nodding at a young servant who passed by him and nearly stumbled in surprise at the acknowledgement from the Jedi. The moment he was gone, Tesha whirled around to you. 

“Tell them you’re not feeling well,” she said. 

You drew in your eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“You agreed to back down, didn’t you? I’d like you to stay behind today. Let Obi-Wan and I have our day together touring Niark. Say you’re not feeling well and don’t come with us.”

You could hardly believe what you were hearing. Anger flooded through your veins. “This is going too far. Tesha, might I remind you that I am the Senator of Myrana, and I am not subject to your silly romantic whims?” You put as much authority into your tone as possible, but Tesha didn’t blink, and if anything stared even harder at you. It didn’t help that she was at least three inches taller. 

“I’ll tell him,” Tesha whispered to you. “I’ll tell the Jedi Order, in fact. I’ll say that you confessed to me your undying love for General Kenobi. I’ll say that you told me your intentions to try to kiss him.”

Your face drained of color. “But — you wouldn’t do that. That’s a lie. I know you wouldn’t. Tesha, this is crazy—”

“Then I suggest you say that you’re not feeling well.” Her gaze was stony. You had never faced someone so infuriating as her, and you felt yourself coming dangerously close to wanting to slap her. 

“Tesha, I want you to listen closely, because I’m only going to say this once.” You stepped closer to her so that no one else could hear. “Obi-Wan is my friend, nothing more. You’re being delusional. I rank above you as Senator and I promise you that this stunt will lose you your job. Do you understand? Let’s keep this professional, and move on.”

“I see how you look at him!” she whispered angrily. “I see it, don’t deny it! You love him, and you’re going to steal him from me!”

You barked out laughter. “If you think I love Obi-Wan Kenobi, then you’re more insane than I thought.”

“Then if I tell everyone that you confessed to me your love for him, no one will believe me.”

You fell silent. 

“Right?” Tesha prompted. “If I say, ‘Y/N told me that she is in love with General Kenobi’, not a soul will believe me.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Want to try me?” she said, and then Obi-Wan was rounding the corner, looking rather ridiculous holding a pink parasol. 

“I’m rather excited,” he said, handing Tesha the parasol. “I’ve never explored Niark before. It’s one of the few major planets in this system that I have yet to research.” He looked so enthused that you wanted to grin at him, but there was now a terrible sinking feeling your stomach as you glanced at Tesha, whose expression was deadly serious. 

“Are we ready?” Tesha asked, looking at you pointedly. You swallowed a hard lump rising in your throat. Is this truly happening? Am I being bullied by my political colleague?

But the very thought of Tesha opening her mouth and saying that you admitted feelings for Obi-Wan… would people believe you if you denied it? You weren’t even sure if you would believe yourself. 

“I’m so sorry,” you heard yourself saying. “I… I’ve come down with a sudden headache. I’m… really not feeling well.”

“Are you alright?” Obi-Wan looked at you closely. Remembering what he had said about sensing feelings, you channeled the nausea conveniently broiling inside of you and tried to focus on the feeling of illness instead of your fury towards Tesha. 

“I’m fine. It’s just a migraine. It’s come on rather quickly.” You rubbed at your temples. “Oh, stars. I’m so sorry. But the king — will he be upset?”

“Y/N, you should prioritize your health, of course,” Tesha said, and the corner of her lip lifted infinitesimally as she made eye contact with you. “We can explain your absence. Are you sure you’re okay? This came on so suddenly.”

“Yes, I’ll be fine with some rest. It must be the humidity,” you said, feeling sick at the lies coming out of your mouth. “I’m sure. Please pass on my deep apologies to the king.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “I hope you feel better, Y/N. I’ll alert the staff so that they can send a guard up to your room with you.” 

“Thank you,” you said, barely hearing your own words. Most painful of all was watching Tesha loop her arm with Obi-Wan’s as they walked away and out into the glittering morning sun. Obi-Wan was only a friend, nothing more, only a friend, nothing more, only a friend, nothing more… but why did it sting so much?


	19. The Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intruders at the palace intend to kill you and Obi-Wan, but their plan goes slightly awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. I know that there haven't been many good scenes between Y/N and Obi-Wan lately, but the next chapter will have a LOT more happening between them. Stay tuned!!!

The morning crawled by slower than you could have imagined. You paced your room, thinking of both ways you should have handled the situation better, and debating what you should do about Tesha now. Your heart pounded at the thought of Obi-Wan and Tesha taking the tour together around Niark… seeing the green horizon, exploring the streams that wove through the mossy land, holding hands as they watched the misted landscape shine with the rising sun…

Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N, you told yourself. Obi-Wan was a Jedi. Even if Tesha tried to — stars forbid — kiss him, he would certainly refuse her. Wouldn’t he?

“Senator L/N?” The voice of the Bothan girl outside your door stopped you in your tracks. 

“I’m sorry. Is the king upset?” you said as you opened the door, rubbing at the back of your neck anxiously. “I feel so horrible, and—”

“Not at all!” The girl looked petrified at the thought of such inhospitable behavior from the king. “No, I’m sure he’ll understand. It’s just… something bad is going to happen.”

You beckoned her inside. “Did you see something? What is it?”

“I’m not sure I can tell you.”

You closed the door to your room and guided the girl into the sitting room. There was still some tea hot in the kettle, so you poured her some and offered it to her. 

She immediately protested against it. “Oh, no, I’m just a servant, I can’t—”

“Go on,” you urged. “It’s really quite good. And I promise you can tell me anything. I won’t say a word of it to anyone.”

She shook her head vigorously. “If I tell, my family will be hurt.” She choked up, tears welling in her wide eyes. “They’re going to be murdered in their sleep. That’s what the man said. But if I don’t tell you, other people could get hurt, too.”

You took the furry hands of the Bothan girl in your own. “Okay. Let’s take this a bit slowly. First, what’s your name?”

She wiped at her nose with a large paw. “La’wela.” 

“La’wela. I want to make things clear. I will do absolutely everything in my power to keep both you and your family safe, okay? But if other people are at risk then I need to know. But I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone.” 

“But my family!”

“It’s really scary,” you said gently. “But I’m glad you came to me. I can talk to the palace guards, too, and have them protect your family. Okay?” You smiled at her encouragingly. “What did you see, La’wela?”

“Well. It was really early this morning, and I was in charge of weeding the palace gardens outside of the gates. A man came up and he had a knife. He said that if I didn’t let him and his friends in, he would slaughter me. I shouldn’t have let him in, I know — I should have refused him — but I was terrified.” She hung her head, tears dripping. 

“You did the right thing,” you told her firmly. “Your life is not worth denying him entrance.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” La’wela said solemnly. “But it gets worse. I let him — and the other men — in and then he demanded to know where…” A sob escaped her chest.

“Where…?” you prompted.

“Where Senator L/N and Obi-Wan Kenobi were going to be that day,” she whispered. “He said that if I didn’t tell him, he would kill me. And I told him there was a tour around Niark planned today.”

“Obi-Wan and Tesha.” Your stomach sank. “They’re in danger.”

“He told me not to tell anyone what happened, or else he’d kill my family.”

You placed a hand on La’wela’s shoulder. “Words cannot express my gratitude that you told me. I’ll inform the guards that I received an anonymous message threatening your family, and I’ll ensure they take the proper precautions to keep you all safe.”

“But what about you, Senator? The man wants to kill you. How will you stay safe?”

“I’m going to find Master Kenobi,” you said grimly, standing up and exchanging your slippers for more durable shoes. “And Tesha.”

“But you could get hurt!”

“So could they. It’s a risk I’m not willing to take.” You grabbed your personal blaster and tucked it into your pocket, just in case. “I need you to go back to your family and stay there with them, alright?”

La’wela nodded and scampered away, only after she had thrown her furry arms around you and squeezed so tightly that you thought a rib might shatter. 

The palace was fortunately empty as you hurried through the halls, each footstep echoing off of the chiseled marble ceilings. Simultaneously you tied your hair back with a black ribbon, concern gnawing at your insides. Whoever this man was, you were certain he didn’t have good intentions. And as much as Tesha was a pain, knowing that she could get hurt by simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time was not something you would ever wish upon her. You tried using your comlink but Obi-Wan didn’t answer. Growling in frustration, you alerted the first guard you saw of the dilemma with La’wela’s family, then continued to the ground floor of the palace. 

Just as you were about to exit, a guard stepped in front of you. “Madam Senator? Where are you headed?”

“I have important business,” you said, trying to sidestep him, but he would not let you pass. 

“I was told you were indisposed with a migraine.”

“I was,” you said, growing more irritated. “I’m better now. And I need to leave the palace, if you will permit me.”

“I’m sorry, Senator L/N, but I’m going to have to get confirmation from my superior that you may leave. The king does not like guests to be unsupervised in case of malice.”

“Malice? You think I have ulterior motives? That’s bantha fodder.” You crossed your arms. “I’m here to bring peace, not chaos. And I’m really sorry, but I need to pass.”

“What is your business outside of the palace?”

You sighed and leaned in closer to him. “Look. I’m having some feminine issues. That is, feminine issues of personal hygiene. And I’m allergic to the Niarkian products offered here, so I need to get back to my ship to get what I need. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone, so I was hoping to just get out there myself, but if you’re going to make me wait any longer then you’re going to have to be the one to explain to the others why I’m standing out here in the middle of the palace while—”

The guard was blushing. “Pardon me, Senator. I suppose that’s permissible. Go on.” He waved you forward, and you dashed out of the palace. Already so much time had been wasted. You tried your comlink again; this time, Obi-Wan answered. 

“Master Kenobi!” you said, minding the fact that Tesha was with him and wouldn’t take kindly to you calling him by his first name. “I’ve got some troubling news.”

His polished accent crackled over the poor connection. “About what? Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. My migraine is completely gone,” you said hastily. “But someone tipped me off about intruders in the palace grounds. I think they intend to hurt you.” And me. You didn’t add the last part; there was no need to have Obi-Wan concerned about anyone other than himself. 

There was a short pause on the other end. “Ah. How delightful."

“Where are you?” you asked.

“We’re on the east trail by the lake. We’ll return to the palace immediately.”

“I’ll meet you. I’ll head down that trail now.”

“No — Y/N, if there’s danger, you should be in the palace, not out on the grounds—” Obi-Wan began to argue, but you cut off the comlink and dashed down the dirt trail, dust flying behind you. Maybe you weren’t exactly the most intimidating person in the galaxy, but something in your gut was telling you that you had to join Obi-Wan, in case something happened. 

You finally saw them as you rounded the corner over a curved bridge that wound its way in between the low trees. Tesha was walking directly next to Obi-Wan, so close that her dress was brushing against Obi-Wan’s robes. Obi-Wan, to your delight, was walking as close to the edge of the trail without going off of it as though he were trying to politely stay as far from Tesha as he could, to no avail. At least, that’s what you hoped was happening. Tesha was laughing, her chin tilted up towards Obi-Wan, but when she turned back and saw you, her face darkened.

“Hello,” you said breathlessly, coming to a stop in front of them. “Thank the stars. I thought that something might happen before I reached you.”

Tesha raised her eyebrows. “Are you certain there’s danger? Everything seems perfectly fine to me.” She gestured at the ambience around them. Birds were chirping, the sun was shining through the fog, and there wasn’t a soul around except for the guard inside of the carriage that stood patiently at the end of the trail. 

You looked to the ground, slightly embarrassed. “My tip off was reliable. I assure you, this is no false alarm.”

“Perhaps you’re delirious, dear,” Tesha said. “Your headache must be raging. Why don’t you run back to the palace and ask for some medicine? Some sleep might do you good.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” you said sharply. “I’m not lying, though. There’s someone here that shouldn’t be, and he intends to harm us.”

Tesha rested her hand on Obi-Wan’s arm. “Obi-Wan is attuned to the Force. He would sense if there was danger.”

You were beginning to feel more mortified. “Perhaps the intruder isn’t here yet. But he’s got to be somewhere near.”

“What’s your reliable source you received a tip from?” Tesha asked. “I think it’s more likely you had a fever dream. You’re young; the stress of this treaty must be getting to you. You should run along and go back to your room, before your headache gets—”

“She’s right,” Obi-Wan said suddenly. “I just felt a disturbance in the Force.”

They all fell silent. Only the sound of birds punctuated the otherwise still air of Niark. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, but hardly ten seconds passed before they sprang back open. Without a word of explanation he sprinted towards the carriage, shouting a warning to the guard inside, but not before it suddenly exploded. You dove off of the trail and to the muddy ground, skidding to a halt underneath a spectacularly thorny bush, but the scrapes against your arms were trivial compared to the heat and debris rippling outwards from the carriage. Dust was everywhere — the moss was upturned from the ground, and the trail seemed to no longer exist, as it was now floating in the air. You coughed, fanning at the air futilely. It was impossible to see with the dirt making your eyes water, but you struggled to your feet. 

“Obi-Wan!” you shouted. The world was a brown smear of smoke and dust. “Obi-Wan, are you okay?”

At first, you couldn’t see or hear anything. You squinted ahead at where you were sure Obi-Wan had run to, hoping for some sign of his presence, when suddenly a blinding blue beam illuminated the air. It cut through the cloud like a razor, ringing through the silence with a buzzing hiss. 

His lightsaber. You jogged towards him, coughing again at the dust. “Obi-Wan!” 

“Y/N, get down!” he shouted. You obeyed without thinking, ducking to the ground for the second time, and this time your knees took the brunt of the dive, scraping painfully against the rough dirt and pebbles. The sound of blaster bolts in the air hummed above your head. You raised your eyes to Obi-Wan, who was deftly deflecting each red bolt into the surrounding trees. Behind him, there was another figure creeping closer. 

“Behind you!” you warned, but Obi-Wan had already turned around. You gaped as he continued to deflect the blaster bolts without looking, using only his lightsaber with his right hand, while simultaneously sending the other assailant flying backwards with a push of the Force. A shriek resounded from the other end of the trail. Tesha. You crawled forward until you were no longer under the bolts and ran towards where her voice was, taking out your own blaster in the process and shooting at the attacker who was still sending bolts at Obi-Wan. Your aim was fortunately accurate and he dropped to the ground with a bolt to the side.

“Tesha!” The dust was clearing and you could see a man dragging her away towards a speeder. You didn’t dare shoot for fear of hitting her. Awful as she might be, you launched yourself at her kidnapper and swung a fist at his face. He seemed to absorb the impact without any pain and shook you off with a well-aimed knee to your side. You choked, but grabbed at his hair, ripping at it as hard as you could. 

“Kriff!” The man swiveled Tesha, who was writhing to get away, and kicked at you. You didn’t manage to dodge it and gasped for breath, falling to the ground. The sound of the speeder being turned on roared in your ears, and more dust was sent into your face as he hopped on and sped away, right before Obi-Wan made it to your side. 

“Y/N!” he said, dropping to your side. “Are you alright?”

“He took Tesha!” you said, getting to your feet and ignoring the blunt pain from his kick in your side. “She’s gone! What do we do?”

“I'll follow,” Obi-Wan said immediately. “There’s a couple of speeders over there from the other men that we can use.” He ran to them, his hair disheveled and dusty from the explosion. You swallowed the bile that rose in your throat at the body of the man who you had shot with your blaster, and again at the second body, mutilated by a lightsaber burn. 

You jumped onto one of the speeders and felt the handles carefully. You’d used one only twice before, but now wasn’t the time to tell Obi-Wan that. “How will we follow them?”

He gave you a serious look. “There is no ‘we’. You’re going straight back to the palace, where it will be safer. And don’t try to follow me.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’m not leaving you to go alone.” You revved your speeder, testing out the gas and moving forward a bit. “You lead the way. I'll be right behind you.”

"This isn't up for negotiation. And we're running out of time."

"Then let's go," you insisted. "I can do this. You're underestimating me."

Obi-Wan raised his hand towards you. “The palace will be much safer. Go there and don’t follow me.” A calmness seemed to exude from him as he spoke, tranquilizing the tension of the moment. You instinctively relaxed slightly, mulling over his words. Well. Maybe he was right… besides, you might get in the way… it would be safer at the palace, you reasoned. Obi-Wan was a capable Jedi. He could get Tesha, and you would wait where it was safe. Yes, perhaps that was the best thing to do. 

“I'll go back to the palace. And I won’t follow you,” you agreed, and turned the speeder towards the palace. Obi-Wan would be fine on his own. You sped off, pleasantly surprised to find that the speeder was easy to maneuver. You saw him take off in the direction that Tesha had been taken, his robes rippling in the wind and his face determined. 

It took ten more seconds of blissful riding towards the palace for you to brake so hard that you nearly pitched yourself off of the speeder. 

"Kriffing Jedi!" you swore, the realization that Obi-Wan had used a mind trick on you making your hands clench with fury on the handles of the speeder. There was no denying it; he’d waved his hand and you had obeyed like a docile bantha. Without further delay you swiveled the speeder around sharply and followed the trail of dust Obi-Wan had left, cursing his attempt to keep you safe. 

Even if the mission was to go save Tesha, you would be there at his side, whether he liked it or not.


	20. Divided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Obi-Wan explore the abandoned factory, searching for Tesha.

You nearly drove right by where Obi-Wan’s speeder was parked outside of an abandoned building. At the last moment, you saw the movement of his robes in the wind as he entered through the half-collapsed doorway. The brakes squealed as your speeder came to a grinding halt next to his, and you leapt off the seat, dashing inside after him. 

“You gundark, Obi-Wan!” you whispered angrily, coming up behind him. 

“I told you to stay behind.”

“I’m aware. I’m also aware that you mind tricked me. A mind trick! I can’t believe you would do that!”

“How else was I supposed to keep you safe? That is my job, after all. If you weren’t so stubborn then I wouldn’t have had to do it.”

“Or maybe you could let me make my own decisions.”

The two of you continued into the abandoned building. It was massive, with huge hangars overgrown with moss and draped in ivy. The hallway you and Obi-Wan continued down had an open view of the hangars on your left, with smaller offices on the right, filled with old control panels and darkened, broken buttons. It was eerie and you felt a small rush of contentment that Obi-Wan was at your side. 

“Well, now that you’re here, take out your blaster and keep a sharp eye out,” Obi-Wan finally said, and threw you a glare. “Do not take this as a victory.”

“You know I will.”

“And do stop gloating.”

“Why? Is it hurting your pride?” you snipped, still seething over the mind trick. “Or perhaps you’re just upset that your mind trick was so weak that it couldn’t last longer than thirty seconds.”

“My mind trick was not weak. Your stubbornness, as I previously hinted at, is simply so ingrained in your personality that the mind trick was repulsed by you.”

You scoffed. “A mind trick can’t be repulsed by a person. You’re making that up.”

He smirked. “How would you know?”

“I wouldn’t. But I’m remarkably good at knowing when someone is lying, and I think you’re lying.”

“I will admit that your willpower was too strong for the mind trick. But everything about the extent of your stubbornness is true.”

“At least I’m not presumptuous enough to mind trick someone! I promise you that Hoth will melt before I ever forgive you for—” You gasped suddenly as a dark creature hurtled from the shadows, launching itself at your face. Upon instinct you threw your hands up, closing your eyes and bracing for it to attack, but nothing came. Slowly, you opened your eyes; Obi-Wan had caught the creature with the Force and kept it suspended in the air, where it struggled uselessly. Small, beady eyes turned from Obi-Wan to you, its pointed claws scratching at the air. 

“Maybe I will forgive you,” you decided. “That creature doesn’t look particularly friendly.”

“It’s hungry,” Obi-Wan said. “You’re fortunate my old master Qui-Gon isn’t here. He would have kept it out of pity. Adopting pathetic lifeforms was a strange pastime of his.”

“Is that how you came about to be his apprentice?”

“Ha, ha,” Obi-Wan said dryly. “You know, I might accidentally let go, and then this little critter here could have some Senator for dinner.”

The creature squirmed in the air. Obi-Wan waved a hand at it. “Go find food elsewhere,” he told it, and then gently lowered it to the floor. It scampered away without a backward glance at you. 

“We need to find Tesha,” you said more seriously. “She’s here?”

“Yes. I can sense her.”

Ignoring the slightly disturbing fact that Obi-Wan was sensing Tesha, you cast a wary look over the abandoned building. “Where is here, exactly? It looks like an old factory, but as far as I’m aware Niark isn’t an industrial planet.”

“It isn’t anymore. There used to be spaceship factories scattered all about the surface, until the new king halted production about a decade ago for environmental concerns.”

That was slightly embarrassing. Niark was a planet in your system, and yet Obi-Wan knew more about it than you. You peered into the hangar on the left. 

“There’s panels on the floor,” you observed. “The production lines must be directly below the hangar. Doesn’t that sound like a good place to take someone you’ve kidnapped?”

“You’re right.” Obi-Wan climbed through one of the broken windows and jogged across to the center panel. 

“Can you sense exactly where Tesha is?”

He shook his head. “It’s difficult. The Force isn’t very clear here. Years of pollution, poor conditions, and child labor have stained the air.” He surveyed the panel. “It’s rusted over, but I can lift it up. Assuming the rest of the factory is directly below, we can just drop down and search from there. If the lower levels aren’t—”

“Or,” you interrupted, “we could take the stairs.” You pointed to a broken door, behind which there was a large stairwell.

“Oh. Yes. That’ll do.” He took the lead, illuminating his lightsaber as the stairs descended into darkness. The blue glow that was cast off of the beam shimmered with a thrilling electricity. “If you don’t want to come down here, Y/N, you’re welcome to go back to the speeder and back to the palace.”

“I’m staying with you,” you insisted. “Besides, what if you need my help?” A sudden clang made you freeze. “Did you hear that?”

“There’s definitely someone down here. Stay behind me.” Obi-Wan crept forward with his lightsaber in front of him. Footsteps rang in the distance and without warning he extinguished the lightsaber. It was pitch black. 

Cold fear at the inability to see even the palm of your hand, two inches from your face, ran through your veins. “Obi-Wan?” you said, seeking him blindly. 

“I’m here.” His hand found yours and squeezed it, then his voice was in your ear, whispering. “There’s another Force user down here. I can sense them. I think it will be best if we proceed unseen.”

The stairs abruptly ended, leading to an icy cellar-like room that you supposed must be massive, even though you couldn’t see anything, based on the echoing of your feet. Obi-Wan kept a firm grip on your hand, as though he knew you weren’t exactly fond of the darkness, and led the way with what could only be the help of the Force. 

The temperature dropped the farther that you walked into the factory. As much as your eyes tried to adjust, it was too difficult to see anything at all. 

“They’re to the right of us,” he whispered again to you. “I’m going to ignite my ‘saber now, alright? Stay here. Shoot anyone that comes near you.”

You nodded, even though it was still too dark to see, and with trembling fingers held your blaster out in front of you. Even though he had warned you, it was still startling when the lightsaber fizzled back to life, springing outwards like a blinding blue spear into the darkness. 

“Olei,” Obi-Wan said, twirling his ‘saber. “I should have recognized your Force signature.”

Olei, the face of the leader of Yrow, emerged from the shadows, with Tesha in tow. He held a knife to her neck. “Good. You brought the Senator with you.”

Obi-Wan’s face twisted. “You will not touch her.”

“Well, that’s not quite up to you, is it?” Lavina came out from the shadows as well, with the man who had kidnapped Tesha behind her. “We were irritated at first that we wanted you two and instead received this stupid girl.” She prodded Tesha. “Our kidnapper mistook her for you, Senator L/N. But I suppose she is equally efficient as bait. You two followed without a second thought.”

“Take the girl.” Olei shoved Tesha towards Lavina and drew out his own weapon — a double-bladed ‘saber that popped to life with deadly twin violet beams. Obi-Wan watched it, not a trace of emotion on his face. 

“Who did you steal that from?” he asked softly. 

“An old Jedi. He was weak and elderly, on some peace mission about fifteen years ago,” Olei said, chuckling. “I killed him and took it. The lightsaber belongs to me now.”

“You’re wrong. It belongs to the Jedi Order.” Obi-Wan lunged forward and his ‘saber collided with Olei’s. You took a step back, alarmed at the agility with which Olei wielded his weapon, and glanced at Tesha and Lavina. 

“Let her go. It’s over now,” you said, brandishing your blaster. “Obi-Wan is going to win.”

“Olei is better with a ‘saber than you might think,” Lavina said, her lip curling. She turned to the man behind her with a jerking of her chin towards you. “Kill her.”

The man behind her stepped forward obediently. You didn’t give a second thought and sent a blaster bolt straight into his chest. He cried out and fell down, but you didn’t give him a second glance, now turning your blaster onto Lavina. “Like I said. Let her go.”

“You’ve got nerves of steel, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t have to be like this. Your planet could join the Republic. We could be allies.”

“After all the men you killed on Yrow? You crashed your ship here, wreaked havoc, and left. And now you expect us to join a system of planets where we’ll be treated like an Outer Rim planet — heavily taxed and with little benefits? No, thank you.”

The hissing of ‘sabers suddenly halted. You risked a backwards glance, taking your eyes off of Lavina, to see Obi-Wan’s blue ‘saber at the throat of Olei.

“Looks like your grandpa lost,” you observed. “You’re outnumbered, Lavina. Stand down.”

“Never.” She hurled a small ball at the ceiling, where it clung and lit up red. “You’ll die with us.”

“Move!” you shouted at Obi-Wan, but you didn’t get a chance to see where he went. He thrust his hand towards you, Tesha, and Lavina, and a massive Force push sent you soaring backwards just before the factory exploded all around you. The ceiling roared with vengeance as it came crashing down in between you and Obi-Wan, leaving rubble and cement tumbling like an avalanche.


	21. Echuta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Lavina set off a bomb in the factory basement, you and Obi-Wan were separated. Now, you have to deal with Lavina on your own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes the prompt from someone who asked if I could include a part with Obi-Wan saying, "That's not how the Force works!" I hope that I did it justice!
> 
> Also, if anyone else has suggestions or requests, feel free to tell me! If it fits with my outline, then I'll put it in :)
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone who has left such kind reviews — they are so inspiring!

When the dust settled, you lay still, listening intently for Tesha and Lavina. You didn’t dare move and give away your location, because there was no knowing what weapons Lavina might have on her, and with the pitch black of the basement you weren’t keen to take her on. It took all of your effort to not cough as dust caught in your lungs. Silently you got to your feet, feeling unsteady in the darkness, and pulled your blaster out. You couldn’t hear anything on the other side of the rubble, and that was what made you the most nervous. Shouldn’t Obi-Wan be moving the collapsed ceiling? 

“Y/N. Where are you?” Tesha’s anxious voice echoed from across the room. You winced and made your way towards her, keeping your hands in front of you as you blindly went to her voice. 

But Lavina must have made it there first. There was the sickening crack of what must have been rubble against Tesha’s head, and then Lavina’s voice drifted through the cavernous basement. “Surrender now and maybe I’ll kill you quickly.”

You didn’t say a word and edged closer. That was stupid of Lavina, you thought with satisfaction. She had given away her position and she still didn’t know where you were. You stooped and picked up a small piece of stone, then threw it ten feet away. 

Sure enough, Lavina took the bait. A blaster bolt lit up the basement briefly as she fired in the direction of where the sound echoed. You took the chance to run forward and shoot your own bolt, but it missed, ricocheting away off of the metal of an old, abandoned cruiser. Blinding lightning seemed to reverberate through the basement as the bolt bounced across the surfaces, finally fading into nothing as it slammed into the cement wall behind Tesha. 

Well. Maybe this wasn’t the time to use blasters. “Blast it,” you muttered to yourself, and ran towards where you had just seen Lavina. You collided painfully with her and both of you tumbled to the floor. 

“Echuta!” she cursed. You didn’t have time to think about the expletive she just uttered; you were too busy defending your own face from getting punched. The blaster fell from her hand and clattered onto the cement floor. Desperately you reached for it but Lavina grabbed your arm and twisted so hard that you were forced to fall back onto your back. 

She pursued you, landing on her knees onto your chest. You choked, the breath knocked out of you as you grabbed the muzzle of the blaster. She pointed it towards your face, exhaling heavily. You kept your hands around the blaster, trying to push it away, but her position on top of you had you pinned.   
“You shouldn’t have come to Yrow,” she said. “Don’t contact us again. Don’t come back.” You couldn’t see her, but you could feel her breaths on your face, as well as her hair dangling on your forehead. “Got it?”

You didn’t answer but heaved upwards with your hands just as Lavina fired the blaster. Another bolt ricocheted through the basement off of the abandoned cruisers, lighting up everything once again. In the flickering illumination you briefly saw Tesha, lying still on the ground, before you dove to avoid the incoming bolt. 

And then it ended. The light was gone, the blaster bolt had found its mark, and Lavina slumped on top of you. A sickening lump rose in your throat at the smell of burning flesh. 

Carefully you shifted, and Lavina rolled off of you, clearly dead. 

The basement was pitch black but you felt her head with her hands and met a hot, mangled wound on her forehead. The bolt intended for your skull had betrayed her, striking directly in her own head. Feeling nauseous, you got up shakily. 

“Obi-Wan?” you called out, stumbling towards where you thought the stairs were. Right now, you needed the light of his ‘saber; there was little you could do for Tesha until then. 

And for what felt like the thirtieth time that day, you suddenly fell to the floor again, slamming your shoulder painfully into the cement, as something hurtled into your back. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” someone whispered into your ear.

“Tesha!” you gasped, recognizing her voice. “Lavina’s dead — we can get out of here, stop—”

“We can get out of here,” she agreed, “but only one of us will.”  
You struggled to interpret her meaning. “We’re colleagues. Tesha, I’ve known you for years, we’re passed laws together, we’ve dealt with treaties and wars together!”

“And now we seem to be at an impasse together. We both care for Obi-Wan.”

“I don’t—”

“Save it,” she snapped. “I only see one way out of this. Here’s what happened down here. Unfortunately, while we were separated from Master Kenobi, Lavina managed to take you down with a blow to the head. I managed to escape just before the basement blew up behind me.”

You frowned. “Blew up?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Tesha picked up rubble beside her, raised her hand, and pain great enough to make you cry out struck your temple. The world faded in and out, the black of the cellar mingling with fuzzy stars of unconsciousness. 

You were too dazed to get up, cringing at an incessant beeping chiming in your ear. Receding footsteps indicated Tesha was running away, returning to the stairs… slowly you turned your head to see the flashing red light beside you of another bomb about to go off any moment. 

There wasn’t time to think. You lifted the blaster from your side, the world spinning and tilting about, and fired. The dizziness was so excruciating that you hardly registered that the bolt had somehow hit Tesha directly in her leg; fuzzily you watched her fall to the ground. 

Something inside you was barking at you to move, move, quick, before it was too late, even though your temple was throbbing so badly you couldn’t think straight, but move, move, move, the voice insisted, and so you obeyed, lurching to the side as you got to your knees, and running in an unsteady line towards the stairwell, past Tesha. Slowly your vision began to clear, even though the pain in your temple was just as profound, but it was enough for you to navigate up the stairs. You took one backwards glance at the beeping bomb, with the increasingly quick red flashes, and pulled yourself up the remaining steps. You had hardly reached the ground floor of the factory when there was a crashing jolt of exploding cement behind you, and then silence. 

“Y/N!”

You whirled around to look into the hangar, squinting at the light streaming in through the windows. In the center of the hangar was a blazing, rough circle of metal cut out from the floor, leadings straight into the basement below. Obi-Wan must have somehow carved a hole in the ceiling of the basement with his lightsaber and ascended all the way to the hangar. As you marveled at his escaping skills, he came running over to you, dust in his hair and cuts on his arms. You expected him to come to a stop in front of you, and ask how you were doing in his obligatory, diplomatic way, but to your utter shock he instead wrapped his arms around you fiercely.

“I was afraid you were dead,” he said, and it took you a moment to hug him back because of the pure surprise rippling through you at the tight embrace. He smelled of chai tea and soap, and you released your breath in the hug, feeling suddenly more safe and relaxed than you could ever remember being in your life. 

“I didn’t know where you were,” you whispered as he let go and you stepped back away from him, soaking in his appearance, from the hilt of his ‘saber held firmly in his right hand to the dirt flecking his face like freckles.

“After the bomb went off I tried shifting some of the rubble, but it would have taken the entire ceiling down on top of us. I had to find a way out and into the hangar so that I could get back down to you, but… you made it out on your own.” 

“But not Tesha.” Your temple seemed to throb in anger at her name. It wasn’t bleeding, but there was certainly going to be a dark bruise there tomorrow. “She didn’t make it.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I had hoped she made it. The Force is so fogged here that I could not tell whether she had perished or not.”

You hesitated. “She… well. It’s my fault that she didn’t make it out.” Tears pricked in your eyes. “She set off the second bomb and tried to leave me behind. I shot her in the leg and ran up just before it detonated.” You waited for his response, unsure if your news would be met with anger, but instead he just surveyed you. 

“I should have sensed her malicious intentions.” He tucked his ‘saber back into his belt. “You did the right thing, Y/N.”

You shook your head vigorously. “She’s dead because of me.”

“And without your quick thinking, you would be dead because of her.” Obi-Wan looked at you seriously. “You must not blame yourself, do you understand? You made the right call.”

“But I—”

“Y/N. Absolutely everything you did was right. If Tesha tried to kill you, then you only acted in self-defense. That’s a precept of the Jedi Order.”

You lowered your eyes. “But I also shot the kidnapper earlier today. How can I even live with myself if I killed so easily and without a second thought?” Your stomach churned as you spoke and the tears gathering in your eyes threatened to spill. With an enormous effort you suppressed the urge to cry, because there was nothing more terrifying than the thought of showing that much vulnerability in front of a Jedi. “I’m disgusted with myself,” you admitted once your throat had cleared enough for you to speak without choking on your words. 

Silently, Obi-Wan began to lead the way out of the hangar, and you gladly followed him at his side, anxious to leave the building. For a moment you thought he just wasn’t going to answer you, but then he spoke. “The first time I killed someone I was a Padawan learner. I didn’t get over it for a long time. It kept me up at night. I even felt like I wasn’t worthy of my lightsaber anymore — how could I bear to use it again when I had knowingly killed someone with it?”

“How did you get through those thoughts?”

“I didn’t,” he said simply. “Killing someone isn’t something you forget or brush off. Instead, I learned to cope with it. It was my duty in that moment. It wasn’t a favorable duty, but it was necessary. If I hadn’t done what I needed to, then there would be worse results. Ultimately, all we can strive for is the best solution, but that doesn’t necessarily equate to a good solution.”

You gently rested your hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that at such a young age. That couldn’t have been easy.”

“I had Qui-Gon to guide me through all of it.” Obi-Wan suddenly raised his hand and brushed your temple. “You were injured.”

“Tesha,” you explained briefly. “She tried to incapacitate me, but I’ll be okay — it was just a knock to the head. And Lavina was killed by her own blaster bolt. Did Olei survive?” 

“I cut off his arm and left him there,” Obi-Wan said flatly. “He, Tesha, and Lavina are buried in a grave of cement.”

There was no need to continue the conversation. You both emerged into the Niarkian sunlight finally. The low clouds of the planet had lifted higher than you had seen yet, leaving the tips of the trees exposed to the sunbeams. You closed your eyes in what was a very welcome warmth after what felt like years in the chill of the abandoned factory. The speeders were waiting where you had left them. You climbed atop yours and turned the key; to your dismay, it shuddered, spitting violently for a few seconds, and then sputtered to a silence. 

“Not good.” You tried again, and this time it did nothing. “Obi-Wan? I’ve decided that the galaxy is very unfairly testing our patience today.”

He slid off of his own cruiser and tried, to no avail. “It needs to be recharged.”

You grimaced. “I suppose it was too much to hope that Olei and Lavina were thoughtful enough to fully recharge their speeders.”

Obi-Wan returned to his own speeder and tested it. “I’ve got hardly any left in mine. We’ll have to be quick.”

“Can you just recharge the speeders?” you asked, gesturing at them.

Obi-Wan looked at you blankly. “There’s no way to charge them here. We’re in the middle of the forest.”

You looked to your feet, slightly embarrassed, and now unsure of your suggestion. “I thought… I mean, can’t you just use the Force? And somehow recharge the speeders?”

Disbelief crossed his face. “That’s not how the Force works!”

You blushed. “Well, I don’t exactly spend my time in the Jedi Temple studying the intricate nuances of it!”

“If I could create channels of energy with the Force, then we wouldn’t have had to endure the pitch black of the basement in that old factory.”

“Okay. I get it. It was a dumb suggestion—”

“And I’d never have to worry about the hyperdrive breaking down, or a blaster breaking,” he went on, smirking at you. “And I’d certainly have never needed to learn how to roast bantha skin over a fire for survival.”

You crossed your arms, unwilling to entertain the thought of Obi-Wan making a fire to eat bantha flesh. “Would you like to continue? Or can we leave this planet and all of its stupid mook fruit tarts?”

“Let’s leave,” he decided. “The Council will want to hear what has happened. Here. Get on my speeder with me.”

“What if I fall off?”

“I’ll make sure you won’t,” he promised. “Let’s go, before mine needs to be recharged.” He offered his hand to help you up, but you paused. 

“Is something wrong?”

“I just remembered something,” you said slowly. “Lavina said ‘echuta’. I can’t remember exactly where that word is from… but it’s definitely not from Yrow.”

Obi-Wan’s brow creased. “‘Echuta’ is a Huttese curse used on Tatooine amongst some other neighboring planets. My Padawan, Anakin, used the word constantly until I could finally get him to stop.”

You contemplated his words. “Yrow is nowhere near Tatooine, let alone Hutt territory. Why would she use that word? It’s not like there’s trade on that planet… I doubt travelers ever pass through. I mean, look at how hospitable they were towards us. Clearly they don’t get many outsiders.”

Obi-Wan rubbed his chin. “Perhaps someone moved there years ago from Tatooine. It’s unlikely, considering both planets aren’t prone to travel, but it’s possible.”

“I guess so,” you agreed, and finally got onto the speeder with him, shifting until you felt sure that you wouldn’t tip backwards off of the speeder. You held onto his shoulders tightly as he started the speeder and then took off towards the palace, the wind whipping in your ears. It would have been enjoyable if not for the sinking feeling in your chest. Obi-Wan had said that he would have to speak to the Council. That could only mean one thing — he would be returning to the Jedi Temple now that the threat of Olei and Lavina was gone and you could return to business as usual with your standard guards on Myrana.

That is, unless you could find a reason to go to Coruscant with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to everyone who is celebrating! I hope that reading about yourself and Obi-Wan in this chapter has made the holiday a bit better, especially if you're struggling this year with mental health, physical health, COVID restrictions, or anything else. It's probably a hard year for a lot of us — I've definitely had a stressful time due to different opinions concerning the pandemic in my family.   
> I'd imagine that anyone who, like me, is taking the time to read or write Obi-Wan reader inserts is probably feeling a little bit lonely right now and wishing that he were real, so I just want to let you know that you're appreciated, and I'm so glad that you're here taking the time to go on an adventure with Obi-Wan. It's readers like you that keep me writing.  
> Sorry that this is a corny note at the end, and it's a bit long too — I'm just a bit nostalgic right now as I write this on Christmas. But happy holidays everyone, and I hope you had a great time reading this chapter. Take care and stay safe.  
> \- Makayla


	22. The Space Station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You begin to plan a massive convention that will take place on Coruscant — and hope that it will bring you closer to Obi-Wan again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize; this chapter is a bit slower, but I needed a segue between the last climactic scene and what I'm working up towards now.

Fortune seemed to cooperate with you that month, and a period of brief quiet in the Clone Wars allowed much of the galaxy to stop and take its breath. There had been no new invasions nor attacks, and while the silence was concerning, it was also a chance for the Republic to compose itself. With the current conditions leaving the politicians, generals, advisors, and other leaders of high positions available, you managed to schedule a massive convention between all of the planets in Myrana’s system. 

Raj and Poole, the other representatives for Myrana, helped to contact the hundreds of inhabited planets that were spread out through the wide system. Without Tesha as the foreign relations advisor there was now an open position, which you ultimately filled with a young Mon Calamari woman named Kela Tunim. Kela was charismatic and had many friendships in the galaxy, and quicker than a jump to hyperspace she was able to reach out to planets you had struggled to make contact with and secure their attendance at the conference. 

All of this was done without Obi-Wan at your side. He had returned to Coruscant, and since then you had not made contact with him once. He was a friend, you had told yourself, so it would be fine if you didn’t reach out, but sending him a message through your comlink would be a bit intrusive. He was busy, you were certain. It was odd being accompanied by an aloof guard in opaque armor — without Obi-Wan’s banter, warm smiles, and admirable wisdom you found yourself feeling rather bored despite all of the responsibilities you had taken on with planning the conference. Fortunately, because you wanted the peace treaties between Myrana’s planets and the Republic to be signed during the massive meeting, the presence of Republic legislators was needed. Between their attendance as well as the fact that Myrana was to the far right of the system and not in the center, it was more convenient to arrange the convention on Coruscant, where the most people would be able to attend. Myrana was a large planet, but there weren’t any conference halls sufficient to host over three thousand political leaders. And that was at a minimum — if the representatives from each planet chose to bring guests, that number could increase dramatically. 

And so you counted down the days until your departure to Coruscant. In the back of your mind you kept thinking about Obi-Wan — that is, if and when you could see him, and what would happen should that meeting happen. But the professional part of you kept your imagination in check; after all, the important thing to focus on was this conference, which could turn the tide of the Clone Wars. You had even been in contact with Chancellor Palpatine, who had thanked you personally for your efforts and emphasized how crucial the support of all of the planets in Myrana’s system would be. It was more praise than you had ever expected and you experienced the most mortification you had felt in a long time, blushing very deeply whilst being immensely relieved that your crimson cheeks would not be visible through the hologram. 

“Might I escort you home, Senator?”

You glanced up from where you were bent over paperwork at your desk. “I’m so sorry, Ehvan. You’re permitted to go home if you’d like. I just need to finalize the conditions of the treaties. There are so many loopholes and exceptions and fine print details that have to be acknowledged.”

Your personal guard, Ehvan, shook his head. “It’s no trouble to me, Senator. I am only concerned you are working too late.”

You looked dismissively at your clock. “It’s all part of the job description,” you said, but now that Ehvan had put home into your head, it was tempting to not think of a shower, or your bed. “But maybe I’ll only do a half an hour more,” you amended. 

He had a point — it was very late, and it was also the ninth consecutive night you had worked late. A half an hour more of work would be enough for you to iron out the details in the paperwork, though. You sighed, stooping back over the notes and continued. You could have finished earlier if you weren’t so distracted thinking about tomorrow, the day of your return to Coruscant. 

And the day of your return to Obi-Wan. 

Coruscant glimmered in a pale yellow sunlight as you descended into the upper level of buildings. Dew blanketed the glassy surfaces so that the edifices sparkled like thousands of diamonds. You squinted out at the skyline, searching for the familiar cream building with its pillars standing proudly atop its roof. A flipping of your heart made your chest tighten as though the air had been sucked out of the ship once you recognized it, standing high above the other buildings — the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan was there, right now, and you couldn’t help but smile.

When you had spoken with Palpatine, he had recommended securing two to three Jedi to attend the convention as a precaution, since there would be thousands of leaders there and therefore reason to believe that there might be a quarrel or two. You had agreed immediately, thinking of one particular Jedi that would be very welcome to come. 

The passenger ship you had taken to Coruscant finally descended into the largest space station of the city, where crowds of citizens of every age, gender, race, and planet were walking about. You had conveniently neglected to mention to your advisors that you weren’t going straight to your room that you would be staying in, so Ehvan was not with you. Not that Ehvan was unpleasant, but you were craving a day out without anyone else at your side. 

The station roared with the hot air of arriving and departing ships. Your hair whipped about, quickly turning the neat braid you had made that morning into a messier braid with fly-away hairs. The connecting liner you had pre-purchased tickets for was on the opposite end of the station, so you hurried forward with a spring in your step to ensure you would get there on time. Your meeting at the Jedi Temple was scheduled for that afternoon, but you would rather get there early. 

A particularly large Rodian jostled you so roughly that you stumbled, nearly falling over. “Watch where you’re goin’, human,” he grunted, leering at you with his large eyes. 

“Pardon me, sir,” you said automatically, dipping your head towards him.

He ignored you and continued his trek through the crowd, bumping into about three other people before you turned your eyes away and continued to the hangar you were supposed to be at. It was all very exciting being on Coruscant — even the ill temperaments of the citizens that clearly were sick of the crowds fascinated you. It was so much more alive than Myrana, you thought with interest, continuing to the hangar. Maybe you’d have to visit more often. 

“Can I have your name, please?” A young Padawan with a short braid hanging behind her ear addressed you with a formal Coruscanti accent. 

“Y/N L/N. I’m here on behalf of the Myrana system for a meeting this afternoon regarding—”

“I see your name,” the Padawan interrupted with an eager smile. “You’re the Senator who is arranging the convention, right?”

“That’s me.”

“I’m on secretary duty this week.” The girl played with her braid. “That means I get to meet with all of the people who are requesting Jedi presence at gatherings and conferences, and then delegate available Knights and Masters as I see fit.”

You could sense the excitement rolling off of the child, so you smiled encouragingly. “That sounds like an important role.”

“I hope it is. Master Fisto trusted me to the role with only the help of a couple of senior Padawans.” She continued to talk about the prowess of the Padawans she had the opportunity to work with in this temporary position as secretary, but you found yourself getting distracted, looking through the Jedi Temple out of the corner of your eye. It was unlikely that Obi-Wan would be wandering around down here, but still… you had hope that you would see him.

“I was curious,” you began once the Padawan stopped to take a breath, “if Master Kenobi was available? I’ve worked with him before and I feel confident that he would be up to the task of overseeing such a massive convention.”

“Master Kenobi? He’s amazing!” The girl began scrolling down her datapad. “I’ll check to see if he’s available this week. He won the ‘saber tournament we had a few weeks ago,” she added, and you held back a smile at the tidbit of information. Of course he had won; you wouldn’t have expected anything less. 

“Oh. I’m sorry. Master Kenobi was sent to Alderaan a few days ago to arrange some negotiations with Senator Organa. I’m not sure when he’ll be back.”

A twist wrenched in your stomach. For a moment you felt speechless. You had been so sure that he would be here at the Temple that it hadn’t even occurred to you that he might not even be on Coruscant. You tried to hide your disappointment, remembering what Obi-Wan had said about sensing feelings through the Force. With luck the Padawan would be too young to sense the crushed feeling that was currently pounding in your head. 

“That’s alright,” you heard yourself say. “I’d be happy to meet another Jedi.”

“Well, Master Skywalker and his Padawan Ahsoka are available. I can schedule them in.”

“Thank you.” You wrung your hands inside the sleeves of your cloak. Obi-Wan wasn’t here. You wouldn’t be seeing him… after a month of waiting to return to Coruscant, you’d have to return to Myrana without spending any time with him. It hurt more than you would have expected. 

“Do you want three or four Jedi at the convention? Do you expect many quarrels? Because my datapad says three or four and I’m not sure—”

“Three is fine,” you said, refocusing on the girl and ignoring the part of you that was only thinking of Obi-Wan. 

“Then I’ll also send Ru I’gota,” the girl said, tapping the datapad. “He was just knighted last month.”

“Excellent. I can’t thank you enough,” you said. 

The Padawan bowed to you. “May the Force be with you.”

“And with you,” you said. 

You almost didn’t find a seat in the space station gate that was destined for the sector your hotel was in. It was packed with citizens, especially Twi’leks, who seemed to all be part of the same family and were on vacation in Coruscant. Quietly you sat between a Nemoidian and one of the younger Twi’leks and pulled out your book. The liner wasn’t due to arrive for another hour so it would be a longer wait. You found yourself a bit nervous about the three Jedi that were supposed to come to the convention in two days’ time when it would begin — Anakin, Ahsoka, and Ru were highly capable Jedi according to the praise of the Padawan you had spoken with, but they just weren’t Obi-Wan. 

“You’re sitting in my seat.”

You looked up from your book to find yourself face to face with a tall Trandoshan. 

One thing you were certain of was that no one had been in this seat, since you had been here for half an hour already, but conflict like this was better avoided, not heightened. 

“Am I?” you said, standing up graciously to allow him to sit there. He grinned widely at you. Pointed, yellow teeth with bits of food stuck between them leered at you; swallowing, you met his eyes and tried to not look at them. “Pardon me.”

“And I think that’s my sandwich sitting in your handbag, too.”

You widened your eyes, feeling your heart pump faster. The Trandoshan outstretched his arm expectantly. The gate to the liner was packed with people, and you swiftly glanced around — surely someone would look up and help — but everyone else was either ignoring the encounter or didn’t hear. 

You decided to go with the polite route. “You must be mistaken, sir. I packed the sandwich in my handbag this morning.”

“I don’t think I’m mistaken, missy. I see a sandwich there and I say it’s mine.” He pushed his hand closer to you. You stepped back slightly. 

“If I give you this, you’ll leave me alone?” you said finally, unsure of whether it was the proper thing to say. At the moment this was the absolute last thing you felt like dealing with and you could only hope that it wouldn’t escalate. News of Senator L/N getting robbed at the largest space station on Coruscant wasn’t exactly the kind of news you wanted to be known for. 

“Of course, missy.”

“Fine.” You shoved the sandwich into his large, clawed hand. 

He peered down at you. “Ha. You’re stupid if you think a measly sandwich intended for a small human like you is going to fill me up.”

“That would be rather stupid,” you agreed, “seeing as that measly sandwich was intended for me and not you.” You turned and began to walk away, but his hand on your shoulder stopped you. You jerked away, slapping his hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

“I want some credits. So I can buy some food.”

“I don’t have any credits on me.”

“You’re well-dressed, little missy. I know you have credits.”

Your heart was beating faster and faster. Again you looked around in hopes that someone would notice but absolutely no one was doing anything. Some of the Twi’leks were watching with interest, but seemed to have no intention whatsoever to jump in and help you. “I’m telling you, I don’t have credits.”

“Then you won’t care if I search.” The Trandoshan pulled you in roughly and grabbed your handbag. You yelped, shoving him away, but he kept a firm grip on the handbag and it was pulled out of your clutch. 

“Thank you,” he grunted. He eyed you again. “I’m willing to bet that you’ve got some little treasures in those pockets, missy.”

You suddenly felt very self-conscious as his gaze swept over you. You were wearing a black cloak, and the insides were lined with pockets. They were full, too, with some keys to your apartment on Myrana, Republic credits, and coins that were often used as currency in Myrana’s system. “Get away from me.”

“Not until you let me check your pockets.” He grabbed at you, and probably would have managed to take everything, if there wasn’t the sudden sound of a lightsaber spitting to life behind him. You held your breath, recognizing instantly the hum of the blade. 

“Let her go, or there will be trouble,” a pleasant voice said from behind the Trandoshan. He released you, whirling around. 

“Jedi,” he cursed. 

The space station felt as though it had come to a standstill. The shouts of the young Twi’leks, the exhaust from the speeders, the beeping of clocks informing of arrivals, the shuddering shakes of spaceships taking off… all of it was gone, and all that remained was Obi-Wan Kenobi, standing with his hood still caped over his head as though he had been passing through the space station incognito, with his lips quirked in the way that meant he was withholding anger, and with the hilt of his ‘saber in his hands, the blade extending outwards to threaten the Trandoshan. 

“I’d suggest you let her go now,” Obi-Wan said. “Unless, of course, you’d like to be arrested for troubling this young lady.”

The Trandoshan reluctantly let you go, grumbling, and made to leave, but Obi-Wan stood in front of him. 

“Return her handbag to her,” he ordered, and the Trandoshan paused, as though debating whether to obey, before thrusting the bag outward to you. You accepted it silently, hardly able to take your eyes off of Obi-Wan, as the Trandoshan slunk away. 

“I thought you were on Alderaan,” you said, restraining yourself from embracing him. Publicly hugging a Jedi wouldn’t exactly bode well for either of you. 

“I was due to return today,” he said. “And it just so happened that I arrived in this space station and sensed you. What are you doing on Coruscant?”

“Needing you to save the day, apparently,” you told him. “But I’m here for a convention.” You explained the convention to him briefly — fortunately, Obi-Wan always caught onto everything quickly. 

“You’ll enjoy meeting Anakin and Ahsoka,” he said once you had finished, with a smirk on his lips that made you wary that he was underestimating these two Jedi.. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy their company.”

“And Ru I’gota? I’m anxious to meet so many Jedi.”

“Well, I believe you’ll only be meeting Anakin and Ahsoka.”

You waited, a smile spreading on your lips.

“Unfortunately I have returned to Coruscant,” Obi-Wan continued. “It is only logical for me to take Ru’s place, since I am well-acquainted with you.”

“Ah. How unfortunate,” you said, nodding. 

“I do need to return to the Temple, though, and request permission to swap with Ru. When is the convention?”

“Two days from now. I’ll send you the details on my datapad when I get to my hotel room.”

“Thank you, Senator L/N.” He bowed, his eyes gleaming at you. 

You curtsied formally in response. “I am in your debt, Master Kenobi. And I look forward to seeing you at the convention. It should be quite the party.”

“I look forward to seeing you as well.” He adjusted his hood over his head and then swept away, tucking his ‘saber under his robes. You watched him leave and hardly noticed that your liner was boarding. Your heart was light again, and you could have skipped your way onto the ship — Obi-Wan would be there after all.


	23. The Reception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the reception, you find yourself meeting many people, including both Jedi and representatives. Of course, the highlight of the evening is some time with Obi-Wan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,   
> My laptop unfortunately broke so I had to send it in for repairs, hence the delay in publishing this chapter. I also wanted to let you know that my classes start next week so while I will definitely still work on this story, my updates might be a bit more sporadic than usual.   
> I hope you all had a great holiday season, and I hope that you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

“I must say, Senator, I am astounded at all you have accomplished.”

You shook your head, embarrassed, at the compliment. “Thank you, sir, but I only suggested the alliances. It’s the representatives of each planet we have to thank.”

The Rodian you were speaking with chuckled. “You’re a modest one, aren’t you? In an hour long conference you managed to secure 97% of the planets in your system. That’s a huge win for the Republic. I expect these Clone Wars won’t need to last much longer, eh?”

“Well, I hope that Myrana’s contributions will certainly help end the bloodshed,” you said, trying to keep your focus on the Rodian. There was a massive reception following the conference, complete with thirty tables of food from different cultures across the galaxy, gowns made of the finest fabrics from Coruscant, and more people in attendance than you had even anticipated in the best case scenario. The festivities celebrating the allegiance with so many new planets in the Republic would last well into the evening, you were certain. 

Obi-Wan had been at the conference, standing idly in the back of the room should anyone become quarrelsome. There had miraculously been no need for the Jedi to step in, so he and the two other Jedi that had come — Anakin and Ahsoka, you thought were their names — had remained quiet the whole time. You had yet to meet the other two Jedi but they would be here at the reception, just in case someone tried to thwart the alliance with the Republic. 

Your own schedule was entirely booked this evening. Dozens of politicians and representatives had requested time to speak with you, and several had been bold enough to ask you for a dance, which you had narrowly avoided by explaining that you were not a dancer and would inevitably trip over your own feet, especially in your gown. 

Even though your dress was an impediment to your already minimal dancing capabilities, you couldn’t help admiring it every time you glanced down. A protocol droid had brought it for you that very morning, and fortunately it had fit. The gown was a soft periwinkle, of a shade that was neither purple nor blue but some mystical hue in-between. A shimmering fabric flowed down from your collarbone to the middle of the dress, like cascading roses woven into the creases; the sleeves were of the same laced material and came to your elbows. It was, needless to say, the most beautiful gown you had ever worn. The same droid had even offered to do your hair for you, and you had accepted, so now an intricate braid fell down your back, framed with loose hairs that had been perfectly curled to float by your ears. 

“There’s a Jedi that wants to speak with you.” A thin droid slid up to you with the message delivered in a ringing, flat tone. 

“A Jedi?” Your heart raced. “Of course. Where… where is he?”

“By Table 16,” the droid intoned.

You quickly smoothed down your dress and thanked the droid. Stars… you had known this moment would come all night, but now the prospect of Obi-Wan seeing you so dressed up was a bit frightening. You wanted him to think you were pretty… but he was a Jedi. He probably didn’t find anyone pretty. You took a deep breath and walked as elegantly as you could to Table 16, searching for the familiar copper hair. 

He was nowhere in sight. You were about ready to return to the protocol droid and ask if it had delivered the message to the wrong person when someone approached you and cleared his throat; at the last moment, you recognized it as the second Jedi who had come. Anakin Skywalker, you remembered.

“Master Skywalker! It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said, offering your hand. He shook it firmly. 

“Senator L/N. I’ve heard so much about you. All good things, of course.” His hair was ruffled in a way that meant he hadn’t put much effort into it, and he wore darker robes than Obi-Wan, with his ‘saber hanging more visibly as well. 

Your heart felt like it was going to shatter your ribcage at his nonchalant words. “You’ve heard a lot about me? From… from Master Kenobi?”

Anakin’s brow drew in. “What? No, from Senator Amidala.”

Your stomach plummeted and you desperately tried to smile. “Oh. Of course. Yes, I see Padmé quite often in the Senate. She’s a brilliant leader.”

It was futile to hope that Anakin didn’t sense your embarrassment. Even if he wasn’t a Jedi, he would have known, because your cheeks were so hot that they must have been glowing a deeper shade than the fiery surface of Mustafar. 

He courteously ignored your mortification. “Naboo is close to Myrana, isn’t it? I’d imagine you would have to organize trade routes with Senator Amidala quite often.”

You seized the subject with relief. “Yes. We have a shared ambassador, actually. There’s a trade route that cuts between our systems and is equally managed by both Naboo and Myrana.” You paused, taking a sip of your water. “Have you been to Myrana before?”

“Nah. I’d love to, though. Any planet with lots of water is someplace I’d like to go.” At your obvious confusion, he added, “I grew up on Tatooine. Water is a coveted commodity there.”

“Tatooine?” Your mind raced. Tatooine was the same planet where that curse, the one Lavina had uttered back on Niark, originated. Obi-Wan had said that it probably had to do with travelers or trade, but what if there was something bigger at hand? “I actually have a question about Tatooine, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Not at all.”

“I was with someone recently and they used the word—” You were cut off by the same droid as earlier, except this time it was beeping with indignance.

“Your shuttle is about to be towed, Master Skywalker. It is parked illegally,” it intoned. “Move it to Hangar 32K immediately or it will be in the possession of the Coruscanti police.”

Anakin crossed his arms. “Kriff. I told Ahsoka to—”

“You have three minutes,” the droid said, still beeping with irritation. “Move your shuttle now. It is parked illegally.”

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said. “Hold that thought and I’ll be right back. I just need to—”

“Your shuttle is parked illegally,” the droid reminded him.

“Yeah, I heard you the first time.” Anakin glared at it. “Maybe you should go tell my Padawan, because she was the one who was supposed to move it. Again, I’m so sorry, Senator, but I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll just be sampling these snacks.” You smiled weakly and gestured at the muja fruit decorating Table 16. 

Anakin swept away and you distinctly heard him grumble something that sounded like “snips”. Bewildered, you stood there, waiting, and then two minutes later he returned with a Togrutan girl. She wore a maroon tunic with gray leggings, and at her waist were two ‘saber hilts. You smiled at her. 

“I’m Ahsoka Tano,” she said, shaking your hand. “I’m sorry I hadn’t introduced myself to you yet. My master decided to park our shuttle in an illegal spot in the hangar, and I was trying to negotiate with a droid that wanted to tow it immediately.” She cast a flippant look towards her master, who looked anything but pleased. 

“Why didn’t you just move the shuttle when I told you to after the conference ended?” he said to her.

“I couldn’t because you had the key, so I had Artoo try to jump it, but then—”

“And you didn’t think it would be faster to just find me?”

“Well, the hangar droid didn’t want me leaving his sight because it was parked illegally!”

You glanced away politely as they began to bicker, amazed at how different their disposition was compared to Obi-Wan. You had assumed all Jedi were the same — formal, stoic, polite. These two seemed to be quite the opposite, and it was rather amusing.

“How about you fly the shuttle next time, then?” Anakin finally said to his Padawan. 

“Yeah, sure, as long as you’re not a backseat flyer the entire time. ‘Ahsoka, slow down.’ ‘Don’t forget to calculate the jump to hyperspace.’ ‘It would be much more efficient if you flew through that fjord instead of going around it.’”

“Funny. Anyway, the Senator doesn’t want to hear about all of this.” Anakin turned to you with an apologetic smile. 

“Oh, it’s fine,” you said quickly. “I don’t mind.”

“There was something you wanted to ask me, though,” Anakin prompted. “Something about Tatooine?” His face darkened slightly as he said the name of the planet. You were tempted to ask him more about his time there, but something told you it wasn’t a good topic to address. 

“Yes,” you said. “Over a month ago Master Kenobi and I dealt with a… well, an unpleasant woman who supposedly was from a remote planet in Myrana’s system. No one goes there for trade — at least that I’m aware of — and it remains relatively isolated from the rest of the galaxy. This woman, though, used a word that I believe is from Tatooine.”

“What word?”

You blushed. “Well, it’s an obscenity.” Unable to bring yourself to say the curse in front of a Jedi, you spelled it for him. 

“Echuta? Yeah, that’s a Huttese word. People used it all the time back in my town. But as far as I’ve heard around the galaxy — and I’ve been to quite a few planets — no one else uses it.”

“So this woman… she must have spent some time around someone from Tatooine. Or she was there at some point.” You mulled it over. “I’m so sorry for such a strange question, Master Skywalker. Thank you for your time. I’m glad to have become acquainted with you.”

“It’s no problem. It was nice to meet you, Senator.” He left with Ahsoka trailing behind him. They made a good duo, you thought, turning as someone else called your name. 

“Senator Tarpe!” you said, smiling widely to feign excitement at his presence. “How are you?”

“Excellent, now that you’ve convinced me to officially join the Republic.” Tarpe was a thin, tall man, with a dark beard lining his face and a hat perched atop his wavy mop of hair. He was the representative of the second most populated planet in Myrana’s system, and therefore responsible for the alliance that had given confidence to the remaining planets.

“I have to thank you,” you told him. “I doubt many of the planets would have signed the treaties had you not taken initiative.”

“No, my dear, I am in your debt.” He sidled up next to you and dipped a bit of muja fruit in the chocolate fountain. “We’re going to be involved in much more trade now. I expect our cities to surge. The economy will be wonderful!”

“I do hope so. Especially with the weapons production; the factories will employ more people and…” you trailed off, suddenly noticing the familiar brown robe in the distance. It was Obi-Wan, chatting with a Wookie representative from one of the smallest planets. 

“Senator?”

“I’m so sorry.” You turned your gaze back to Senator Tarpe. “I got distracted.”

“Ah, yes, I’m getting distracted as well.” Tarpe laughed gaily. “It’s hard to focus with such a beautiful lady in front of me!”

You shifted away from him. “Well. That’s an exaggeration. It was nice speaking with you, Senator, but I’m going to—”

“Oh, chat with me for awhile!” Tarpe’s cheeks were flushed. “The night is young, my lady! I’d like to tell you all about my experience as Senator. There might be a few tips and tricks I could show you.” His eyes drifted down, raking over your body, and you suddenly felt very uncomfortable in your gown.

“Sir, with all due respect, I am perfectly capable of managing Myrana’s system.” You crossed your arms. “Have a good evening.”

He didn’t seem to hear you. “If you want, I could get you a drink.”

“No, thank you. In fact, I think you’ve had far too many,” you said. 

“No, no, not at all,” he countered. “In fact, I feel clear-headed enough to ask that we go find a private room together.”

“I believe that’s the last thing Senator L/N feels like doing,” a mild voice said. “Might I discuss the treaty with you, Senator?”

You held back your smile. “Of course, Master Kenobi.” Tarpe was left standing with his mouth agape and his cheeks pink as you walked away alongside Obi-Wan. 

“Thank you,” you said, laughing. “He’s difficult to shake off. Tarpe is known for being… a bit pushy when it comes to women. Especially when he’s drinking”

When Obi-Wan didn’t answer, you looked sideways at him, and were caught off guard to see him scowling. “Is everything alright?”

“I suppose. How is someone so ghastly as Tarpe elected into the Senate?” he demanded.

You shrugged. “He’s charismatic when he’s sober. Don’t worry, he acts like that to all of the female Senators when he’s had a few drinks. I mean, it’s definitely uncomfortable, but unfortunately years of leadership have not changed him in the slightest.”

“Clearly,” Obi-Wan said. His face remained etched into an expression of mulish displeasure. 

“You know, Tarpe can also be quite big-headed,” you said dryly. “Maybe if he were to come face-to-face with your lightsaber, or experience the perils of the Force, he might be less obtrusive. A subtle Force push into the chocolate fountain might do him some good.”

“There’s nothing I’d love more,” Obi-Wan said. “Unfortunately Master Yoda and Master Windu would then spend the next year reminding me of what I am to uphold in the Jedi Order. Pushing Tarpe into a chocolate fountain is regrettably not permitted in the Code.”

“I’m kidding!” you said, grinning. “Do you really think I’d ask you to use the Force to push a representative? Tarpe is repulsive but he’s relatively harmless.”

“Hm.” Obi-Wan cleared his face with what seemed like a vast reluctance, which was considerably surprising considering the Jedi were known for suppressing all emotions. “Stay away from him, please.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t plan on ever purposely talking to him,” you said, taken aback at the seriousness of Obi-Wan’s tone. “How’s your evening going?”

“That depends. I wanted to ask if you would dance with me, Y/N.”

Your breath caught in your throat. A professional dance, of course. All sorts of politicians and representatives were dancing together tonight. A dance with Obi-Wan would mean nothing more than a dance with anyone else in this room, you told yourself. 

“I assured everyone else who asked that I am firmly opposed to dancing,” you said. “But I think that I can make an exception.”

A smile crossed Obi-Wan’s face and he held his hand out. The band was playing a melodic piece, heavy with strings and muted tones that lifted and soared through the air like a starship in the night. Diplomatically Obi-Wan placed his hand on your back, low enough to make your heart perform cartwheels but high enough to be entirely polite. With his other hand — a very strong, calloused, decisive hand — he clasped your own hand, lifting it slightly and using it to guide you through the waltz. For a moment you were dazed, unsure of where to look and what to do, but gradually you fell into a rhythm as the steps began to flow and the twirls aligned with the crescendos. 

“It’s improving now,” Obi-Wan said abruptly. 

“What’s improving?”

“My evening. You asked how it was going.” He tightened his grip on your waist and the two of you seemed to ascend into a different plane, one where there was no one else in the reception hall, one where the stars glowed whiter, the music echoed, the surrounding lights sparkled, and you might have been floating, you felt so alive. 

Maybe it was completely platonic. Maybe Obi-Wan would have held the hand of any other woman in the room like this. Maybe his reason for asking you to dance was for professional purposes only, to uphold the courtesy the Jedi Order was renowned for. Maybe you were grossly overestimating all of this. But right now, in this moment, you were okay with that, so long as his hand didn’t let go of your own. 

Too soon the music came to a slow end, the strings fading into the background as the band allowed the reverberations of the final notes to drift away into the nighttime air. Obi-Wan came to a stop, his hand dropping from your back, and then slightly after he released your hand. 

You remembered at the last moment to not stare in a stupor at him. “Thank you for the dance, Master Kenobi,” you said, curtseying. 

“No, thank you.” His eyes flickered down at your dress — not in the disgusting, longing way like Tarpe had, but as a polite observation, as though he were noticing your dress. At least, you hoped he was noticing your dress. 

“Y/N, you look positively radiant tonight,” he said finally, and perhaps it was your imagination, but you could have sworn that he started to look at your dress again but at the last moment kept his eyes trained on your face.

“Thank you,” you said, and you felt as though you were glowing. “You know, I think the Jedi Order should invest in dress robes.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. It’s a bit unfair that you have to attend a massive reception and you don’t get to wear an exciting, fancy outfit.”

“Is this shade of cream not fancy enough?” He tugged at his tunic. “But if you must know, I took the time to do all of my laundry this evening. Everything I’m currently wearing is entirely clean.”

“Including your socks?”

“Including my socks,” he confirmed. “I even polished my boots.”

You looked down at them, delighted. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice!”

Obi-Wan folded his hands into his sleeves. “I saw that you met Anakin. What did you think of him?”

“If I didn’t know he was a Jedi, I wouldn’t have thought he was one,” you admitted. “He’s so… relaxed, I guess. But he was very pleasant to speak with, as was Ahsoka.”

“Anakin grew up on Tatooine. He wasn’t raised as a youngling in the Temple like the other Jedi are,” Obi-Wan explained. “He was my Padawan. Did I mention that?”

“You didn’t!” A sudden image was conjured in your mind of Obi-Wan trying to corral a young, wild Anakin Skywalker. “I’m sure he kept you busy.”

“That’s putting it lightly.” 

“I can hear you, Obi-Wan.” Anakin strolled up out of nowhere. “Oh. Am I interrupting something?”

If it was possible for Obi-Wan to look flustered, he did right now. “Not at all. I’m merely chatting with the Senator.”

There was a brief pause in which neither of them spoke, and you had a strong suspicion that they were exchanging thoughts via the Force. You busied yourself with adjusting your necklace, when suddenly Ahsoka came jogging up. 

“Master!” she said, her hands resting on her ‘sabers. “I think something’s wrong.”

“Wrong as in dangerous? Or as in inconvenient?”

“Both, I guess?”

“I don’t sense anything,” Obi-Wan said. “Are you sure?”

“Well, the protocol droid that was at the entrance is missing. I went out to check that our shuttle wasn’t towed, and he was just… gone.”

“Perhaps he changed duties,” Obi-Wan suggested. You shook your head. 

“A protocol droid wouldn’t abandon his post without permission,” you said. “And I’m the one that arranged how many and which droids we would need for the reception, so someone else must have ordered him to leave. I’ll go check with Raj, though.” You slipped away through the crowd, searching for Raj. Maybe a missing protocol droid wasn’t a big deal, but you didn’t want to take any chances; after all, every representative in Myrana’s system was currently in one room, and it was the perfect opportunity for someone who was opposed to the alliances to take action. 

Finally, you saw Raj’s head, over by the far end of the hall. You made your way through the crowd of people, carefully holding your dress still so that it didn’t drag across the floor. You were nearly there when suddenly someone in ragged armor with a rusted Mandalorian helmet stepped in front of you.

“Don’t move,” she said, pointing her blaster at you. “Or I’ll shoot.”


	24. Sarlacc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chasing down the assassin at the reception leads you to a new adventure with Obi-Wan — and a profound realization.

The blaster was pointed directly at your chest. With no other choice you raised your hands slowly. 

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” you warned. “There’s a lot of people here. You’re outnumbered.”

“Then maybe I’ll die tonight. But I’ll take you down with me.” She gripped the blaster with her other hand. Everyone had fallen deadly silent, and you discreetly glanced to the side, hoping the Jedi were nearby. 

“Why?” You tensed, waiting for the proper moment to move. 

“The treaties. Not everyone in Myrana’s system wants to be part of the Republic.” The woman cocked her head and some of the skin on her shoulder was briefly visible. There was a tattoo, and she was close enough to you that you could make it out — a sarlacc. 

“So the Separatists are behind this? You’re a bounty hunter?”

She paused, contemplating her response, and you took the chance to dive forward. She fired too late and the blaster bolt missed you, hardly grazing your left hand and going into the wall behind you. Pandemonium erupted — the bounty hunter took off running, firing bolts into the crowd. Screams echoed throughout the reception hall, but you didn’t stop to look at who it was, choosing to pursue the unknown woman instead. 

Until someone grabbed your arm. 

“Senator L/N!” Ahsoka Tano, the younger Jedi, was looking at you urgently with her large eyes. “Let me get you to safety.”

“I’m fine! We need to stop the bounty hunter!” 

“Anakin and Obi-Wan will stop her. Come with me, we can—”

“I’m so sorry — there’s something I need to tell them — and this is important!” You didn’t have time to be more specific, and you took off sprinting in the direction where you could see the bounty hunter heading towards the stairwell. Anakin and Obi-Wan were right behind her. 

But the bounty hunter had a jetpack. The Jedi would never get to her in time, assuming she would ascend the stairs by flight and then escape by the rooftop. You came to a skidding top, Ahsoka right alongside you. 

“What is it?” the Padawan asked, her lightsabers now ignited. 

“I know a faster way,” you said. “Come on!”

Ahoska followed you to the elevator shaft on the other side of the reception hall. You were grateful that she wasn’t forcing you to go to safety, and your respect for the girl that you barely knew increased immensely. 

“The bounty hunter had a jetpack,” you explained as you went inside and jammed the button for the door to close. “I bet she plans on escaping by the roof.”

“You’re right. I can sense her.” Ahsoka’s eyes widened just as the elevator came to a grinding, painfully slow deceleration. “There’s no time, she’s escaping!” With her ‘sabers she cut a hole in the door of the elevator and leapt through, blocking the bounty hunter just before she was able to make it off the roof. Anakin and Obi-Wan emerged at the same time, having come up by the staircase. Obi-Wan’s eyes flashed to you and for the briefest of moments he looked surprised, but then his eyebrows drew in again and he focused on the bounty hunter. 

She was cornered. You and Ahoska blocked the elevators, Anakin and Obi-Wan stood in front of the stairwell, and the only place to go was up — which, seeing as the bounty hunter had a jetpack, could be an issue. Traffic whipped by overhead, with some of the airspeeders flying so low above the rooftops that you kept flinching out of fear that they would crash into you. Your braid was almost entirely undone from the heavy wind and your gown snapped about at your feet from the strong gusts that roared through the air. 

Without warning the bounty hunter lifted her blaster and fired it at you. Ahsoka neatly blocked the incoming bolt with an agile swipe of her ‘saber, and then an invisible Force push from Obi-Wan yanked the blaster out of her hand. He caught it deftly. 

“Long live the Separatists!” the bounty hunter shouted, and she ignited her jet pack, flying into the air. With an extraordinary leap, Anakin vaulted upwards and grabbed onto her left leg. The impact from him sent the bounty hunter spiraling downward, and they vanished over the edge of the roof. 

“Stars!” you gasped. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine,” Obi-Wan assured you. “Pardon me.” With a running leap he soared off of the roof and onto a moving airspeeder, and distantly you heard him apologize profusely to its owner before directing the airspeeder in the direction that Anakin and the bounty hunter had gone. 

“Are all Jedi this reckless?” you asked Ahsoka. 

“You should see Anakin when he’s feeling impulsive,” was her answer. 

You approached the edge of the building and peered over the edge. “They’re out of sight. Should we do anything to help?” It was a futile question; there wasn’t really anything to do now that Obi-Wan and Anakin were gone. 

“We should go back downstairs. I’m sure it’s chaos down there.”

“Good idea.” It was slightly mortifying that you hadn’t thought of this on your own, but you proceeded to the elevators, where there was a gaping hole, still sizzling from the contact with the lightsabers. “Oh. Do you think it’ll still function?”

Ahsoka examined the door with slight guilt in the way that she gripped the hilts of her ‘sabers. “I think so. I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured her. “I’d rather have a hole in the elevators than an escaped bounty hunter.” Just as you finished speaking, there was a loud hissing sound, and then Obi-Wan, with the bounty hunter being held by Anakin in the backseat, arrived in the airspeeder he had jumped on top of. 

“That was fast,” you observed. 

“It would have been faster,” Anakin grumbled, hopping out of the back with the woman in his grip, “if Obi-Wan hadn’t chosen a kriffing outdated model of the airspeeder to take.”

“I wasn’t exactly browsing for the most notable options,” Obi-Wan said, casting him a reprimanding look that you were certain had been employed many times in the past, considering what he had said earlier about Anakin being his Padawan. “But as Master Yoda once said, scavengers can’t be—”

“I know. Must you lecture me?”

“I’m defending myself against your criticism,” Obi-Wan said. “Now, what to do with her?” With a flippant twitch of his hand the helmet was yanked off of the bounty hunter’s head, revealing a middle-aged woman underneath with graying hair and heavy eyeshadow. 

She sat there petulantly and refused to look up. “I won’t tell you anything useful, I’ll tell you that now. Interrogating me is a waste of your time. I’ve been praised across the galaxy for my sealed lips.”

“I think you’ll tell us everything we need to know.” Anakin strolled up to her. “The question is, do you want it to be painless for yourself?”

Ahsoka crossed her arms. “Master, shouldn’t we just bring her to the Senate? I’m sure they won’t be happy with us if we act without turning her in first. The Council won’t exactly be pleased either.”

“Not to worry.” Obi-Wan gestured to you. “We have a Senator here. And I sit on the Council. I’d say we’re justified. As for you — what’s your name?” He directed this last bit towards the bounty hunter. 

“I go by Nova,” she said, jutting out her chin arrogantly. “Heard of me?” 

“Nope,” Anakin said. “Where are you from?”

“I’m not telling you.” Nova folded her arms. “You can try, but I won’t say anything.”

“I think she’s from Tatooine,” you cut in suddenly. The three Jedi turned to you and your cheeks warmed instantaneously. “I mean, that’s my guess.”

“I think you’re right,” Obi-Wan said. “Nova might be renowned for her sealed lips, but her face tells us everything we need to know.” Sure enough, the bounty hunter’s cheeks had turned pink. 

“How’d you know that?” Anakin’s jaw was tight again, just like it was earlier in the evening when you had brought up Tatooine and the echuta curse Lavina had uttered. 

“I… I saw the tattoo of a sarlacc on her neck,” you said, uncomfortable at Anakin’s steely gaze. “It’s native to Tatooine, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Anakin turned to the bounty hunter. “So, an Outer Rim nobody was hired to come here and kill Senator L/N? Who’s paying you?” 

Nova didn’t answer. Anakin waved his hand this time. “Tell me who is paying you.” 

Her left eye twitched. “No.”

“Let’s try this again.” Obi-Wan stepped up this time and stretched his arm out towards her. “You will tell us who is paying you.”

“No… I don’t want… but—” Nova stumbled over her words, and after a full ten seconds of vacillation, her face glazed over. “I’ll tell you who is paying me. I was hired by the Hutts.”

“Be specific,” Obi-Wan ordered. 

“Jabba the Hutt gave me two thousand credits to kill Senator L/N.”

Obi-Wan dropped his hand. “Thank you, Nova. Anakin, Ahsoka — would you bring Nova to the prison?”

Anakin eyed him suspiciously. “And what are you going to do?” 

“Just tell the Council I’ve decided to take a short jaunt to the Outer Rim. To Tatooine, to be exact.

“Tatooine? Why the kriff are you going there?”

“Because this is the second person that Senator L/N and I have become acquainted with that wants her dead and has roots in Tatooine.”

Anakin narrowed his eyes. “So you’re leaving me to take care of this Nova lady?”

“It would also be a good opportunity to teach your Padawan about the deep-rooted issues of racism in Coruscant’s incarceration, particularly towards species from Middle Rim planets,” Obi-Wan said. “Unless, of course, you’d like to go to Tatooine—”

“No, thanks. Come on, Ahsoka.” Anakin grabbed Nova roughly and they stepped through the hole Ahsoka had carved earlier into the elevators. “It was nice meeting you, Senator.”

“It was lovely meeting you, Master Skywalker. You as well, Master Tano,” you said, curtseying as professionally as you could despite your windblown hair. As the elevator began its descent, you could hear Ahsoka saying smugly to Anakin, “Hear that? I’m your equal now. Master Tano, she said.”

Once they were gone, it was only you and Obi-Wan left on the rooftop together. 

“I never knew you had such impulsiveness in you,” you said. “Hijacking that airspeeder? That was quite the feat.”

“Anakin has been a negative influence on me, I’m afraid.”

“What if you misjudged the jump and fell?”

The question seemed to stump him at first. “I suppose I’d use the Force to find another airspeeder below to land on.”

“And if there were no more?” you pressed. 

“Then I’d use the Force to cushion my fall.”

“So you’re telling me you think you could survive that.” You looked down over the edge of the building doubtfully.

“Would you like me to find out?” he offered.

“No!” 

“It could be an interesting experiment. Maybe after we return from Tatooine.” He approached the airspeeder he had borrowed earlier and pressed several buttons on it. The airspeeder revved to life and took off on auto-pilot, presumably back to its garage. “Shall we get our own personal shuttle at the Jedi Temple?”

You paused. “We?” Hope was burgeoning inside you at the prospect that he wanted you to accompany him to Tatooine, but surely you had heard him wrong—

“Of course. If there are people like Lavina and Nova out to get you, then I’d like to be at your side.”

“I’d… well, I’d love to accompany you,” you said, trying to keep your enthusiasm at bay. 

“Besides, you seem well-versed with Tatooine. How did you know the sarlacc is native there?”

“I have a collection of books on Outer Rim planets,” you said. “Back in the day when I thought I’d become a librarian, I tried to find as wide a variety of texts as I could.”

“You retained it well.”

The compliment made your heart soar. “I don’t know how useful my limited knowledge of Tatooine is going to be, though. What are we even going to do there?”

“Confront Jabba the Hutt,” Obi-Wan said, and a small smile tugged upwards at his lips — a telltale sign that he enjoyed adventure more than his calm Jedi disposition let on. It was that moment standing on the rooftop that the truth hit you. It wasn’t just his robes billowing in the wind, his copper hair tousled from chasing down Nova, his blue eyes glimmering in the evening sun. No, it was the wit on the tip of his tongue, the easy, confident posture, the way his fingers gently rested on his ‘saber hilt, the fact that he wanted you to come to Tatooine with him on what he clearly saw as an adventure. 

You were inescapably, earnestly, devotedly in love with the Jedi standing before you.


	25. Mos Eisley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Obi-Wan arrive on Tatooine with the intention of confronting Jabba the Hutt, the suspect behind the recent attempts on your life.

The heat rippled across the surface of Tatooine, blurring the horizon in a smear of arid intensity. The binary suns stood like twin gods of fire in the sky, mounting the clouds and immolating everything in their path. Obi-Wan landed the ship in Hangar 339X of the Mos Eisley spaceport with finesse as you retrieved supplies from the back. 

The Jedi kept their ships well-stocked. This particular model was especially prepared for any climate, with built-in air conditioning and heating. There were cloaks of every thickness, including tan ones made of a light, airy cloth designed to keep the sun away on planets like Tatooine. You tucked two of these under your arms and scanned the remaining supplies. Water would be a necessity. In fact, it wouldn’t only be a necessity, but a treasure here. You had read on the journey through hyperspace about the culture of Tatooine, including the high proportion of people employed in moisture farming to fulfill the civilization’s desperate need for water. 

“Wouldn’t it be more prudent to land closer to Jabba’s palace? Mos Eisley is on the other side of the Great Mesra Plateau,” you said. 

“Tusken raiders,” Obi-Wan said simply. “If we land in the middle of the plateau, we’ll return to our ship to find it plundered. Or picked up by some Jawas.”

You handed him the light cloak you had found. “Time to forgo that heavy robe.”

As he accepted it, a male voice shouted from the outside something rather aggressive in Huttese. You glanced out of the cockpit window to see a man standing there, waving his fist at you. 

“What’s he saying?” you asked, confused. “We had clearance to land, didn’t we?”

“He wants payment now,” Obi-Wan said with disdain. “Such impatience.” He strolled off of the ship, you trailing behind, and proffered the payment to the man. They had a short conversation in Huttese, and then Obi-Wan nodded to you. 

“He doesn’t look happy,” you observed as you exited the hangar. 

“He tried to get us to pay triple with the claim that Republic ships require extra fees.”

“And did you pay him triple?”

“No. I mind-tricked him.” Obi-Wan said this so matter-of-factly that you had to laugh. 

The suns felt even hotter than they appeared. You were grateful for the minimal shade that the cloak offered, even though you were tempted to strip it off altogether to let your skin breathe. Obi-Wan had assured you that the cover would be preferable to direct exposure of the suns, though. 

Mos Eisley was a lively city, even in the middle of the day. Vendors lined the street, calling to you in Huttese and reaching outwards with trinkets and tchotchkes that they hoped to sell. There were shops selling clothing for every race you knew — Togrutas, Rodians, Trandoshans, and Lasats; a barber shop with a woman inside trimming a child covered entirely in hair; water distribution centers, some with children begging outside, pails in their hands. Banthas roamed about, some with ropes tied about them and some entirely free. There was a junk shop with a Toydarian fluttering lazily outside of it; you noticed Obi-Wan tuck the hood of his cloak a bit higher as you passed by yet his eyes seemed to linger on the small shop. 

“Stay close,” he advised once you had passed the junk shop and he lowered his hood slightly again. “Between Lavina and our recent escapade with that bounty hunter, Tatooine isn’t exactly a safe haven.”

“I was planning on sneaking away to explore a club as soon as you turned your back,” you told him dryly.

“Such sarcasm for a Senator. Are you sure you’re not destined to be a bantha herder?”

“Such insolence for a Jedi,” you countered. “Are you sure you’re not destined to be a bantha?”

He folded his arms inside of his sleeve. “Ah. At least I’m not the one stepping in said bantha waste.”

The moment the words left his mouth you felt your shoe land in something horribly soft. Glancing down with disgust, you wiped your shoe on the sand. “I could take this off and throw it at you, you know.” 

“And then you’d be denied from the cantina. I’m afraid throwing is forbidden.” Obi-Wan nodded at the door on the left, behind which was muffled acoustic music. A bold sign across the front read “No shooting, stabbing, punching, biting, poisoning, throwing, kicking, choking, bludgeoning, or bombing permitted. Absolutely no droids.”

“Are we stopping here?” you asked. 

Obi-Wan’s gaze lifted to the sky. “I think so. It’s reaching late afternoon. We can eat now and then find a place to stay for the night.”

“And leave early in the morning?”

“Yes. With luck, we’ll reach Jabba’s palace tomorrow before the suns become too hot.”

The inside of the cantina smelled strongly of grease and beer. A trio of Twi’lek singers leaned lewdly into the same microphone, crooning slow lyrics in a language that you had never heard before. No one paid you and Obi-Wan any attention as you took a seat at a small table in the corner. It occurred to you that you were having dinner one-on-one with Obi-Wan; despite the rather unappealing ambience, it was still nonetheless a table with you and him facing one another. Once again you had to keep your thoughts in check, unsure of what exactly he could sense from you.

A human waiter approached your table. “H’chu apenkee. Hi chuba du naga?”

“Hello,” Obi-Wan said pleasantly. “Do you speak Basic?”

The boy looked back and forth between you sullenly. “Sure.”

“What do you have for cuisine edible for humans?”

“Not much. We don’t get a lot of human customers in this cantina,” the boy said. “All that’s left are stewed hubba gourds. They’re getting cold, though.”

True to his word, the hubba gourds brought out several minutes later were utterly room temperature and a bit soggy, but you had no complaints; it was much better than an empty plate. There was no water available for a cheap price so you and Obi-Wan settled for blue milk, one of the few liquids Tatooine had an abundance of. Obi-Wan sipped it contemplatively and you smiled.

“What is it?”

You choked down the smile. “Nothing. Just the fact that the great Master Kenobi — pardon me, General Kenobi — is sitting across from me, placidly drinking some blue milk.”

“And across from me is the esteemed Senator L/N with dried bantha waste on her shoe.” He bit into some of the hubba gourd and chewed it thoughtfully. “Tomorrow we can rise before dawn, if that’s alright with you.”

“So. We take speeders across the plateau. How do we expect Jabba to let us in? Do we need aliases?”

“We can try. Jabba is vigilant of who he lets in.”

“And he won’t try to kill me on the spot? He was the one to hire a bounty hunter to kill me.”

Obi-Wan set his glass down contemplatively. “I’ve been thinking about that. I’ve given up trying to leave you behind, because I know that you’ll follow. In an attempt to stop you from making any stupid decisions I’ve made the executive decision to let you come in with me.”

You glowed with satisfaction. “Excellent.”

“But as my slave.”

Your smile faded. “And how exactly will this pretense help us?”

“Slaves are often required to keep their faces hooded, so it won’t be questioned if your face is not seen. While I question Jabba, you’ll be able to ask around the palace. I’m sure Jabba’s servants have looser tongues than him.”

You finished your own stewed hubba gourd and nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Good.” Obi-Wan paid the waiter and stood. “Shall we find a place to stay for the night?”

You nodded and followed him back onto the dusty street of Mos Eisley. The suns were lower in the sky now, casting a warm orange glow over the sandy horizon. If you weren’t stressed about the next day, it might have even been beautiful. 

But if you were being honest with yourself, any landscape that included Obi-Wan wasn’t too horrible.


	26. The Inn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Obi-Wan stay at an inn together in Mos Eisley for the night.

The inn Obi-Wan selected was in the cleanest part of Mos Eisley — that is, the section most sheltered from sandstorms, where you were able to breathe without feeling like you needed to sneeze. The exterior was a pale yellow, sunbleached and cracked. A sloppy sign was nailed above the door bearing the name of the inn, but you couldn’t read it anyway because the paint was so chipped that only a few letters remained. 

“After you,” Obi-Wan said, holding the door open. You entered, pleased to see that the interior was not quite so dilapidated as the sign outside suggested. There was even a small dining room, currently empty, that had a table of fruit sitting against its wall. 

There was a Toydarian behind the desk. She was middle-aged, and hovered a few feet in the air, her wings flapping rather quickly. 

“Good evening,” Obi-Wan said before the innkeeper could greet them in Huttese. “How are you?”

“I’m quite well, thanks,” she said, nodding. “Wonderful weather, eh? Cool out today.”

You would have said it was quite the opposite, but politely tilted your head in agreement. “Yes, it was beautiful. We were hoping you had two rooms available?”

“Certainly, certainly. You two look like off-worlders to me. Traveling, eh? ”

“In a sense,” Obi-Wan replied, folding his hands into his sleeves. “Would you prefer us to pay you in credits or peggats?”

The Toydarian laughed violently. It was more like a vehement wheezing, caked with years of living in gritty sand; in fact, you wouldn’t have known it was a laugh if she hadn’t grinned afterwards. You shuffled in place, slightly unsure of whether to laugh along with her. Finally, she wiped the spit off of her lips, and contemplated Obi-Wan. 

“You from Coruscant?” she asked. 

Obi-Wan didn’t confirm or deny it. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, I haven’t seen anyone come into this inn that’s been as polite as you two in… hm, I don’t know, eh? Two years?” She chuckled again, and fortunately it was a bit less of a wheeze. “Credits will do, by the way. I have to deal with a lot of travelers that don’t have peggats on hand. Two rooms will be forty credits. ” 

“Thank you very much,” you said, waiting patiently as the Toydarian clicked through her data pad, and Obi-Wan rummaged his pockets for the credits. 

Gradually, her smile faded, and her wings beat a bit slower so that she lowered a bit closer to the floor. “I’m sorry, folks. Looks like I don’t have space for you.” She tapped on it again, a bit impatiently. “A huge crew of Twi’lek entertainers stopped in last night. Took up more than half my rooms. Thought I had more space, but it looks like there’s only one room left. I’m very sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you told the Toydarian kindly. Your sore feet were protesting at this news, though. On second thought, you added, “One room might work. Are there two beds?” 

“No, ma’am. Only one. But it’s fit to sleep even the tallest Wookie. You two would have more space than a womp rat in a sarlacc pit. Plus, the nearest inn from here is a long walk, and I wouldn’t recommend staying out much later than this hour. Not too safe, eh?”

Before you could say anything, Obi-Wan had placed several credits on the counter. “We’ll take the one room. Thank you very much.”

“Ah… one room will only be twenty credits,” the Toydarian said, frowning. 

“Keep all forty. We are grateful for your hospitality,” Obi-Wan said, bowing. The look of gratitude on the Toydarian’s face made you smile as the two of you made your way with the key to room 315. 

“Will you be alright with one room?” you asked hesitantly. “Will the Jedi Code permit you to do that?”

“The Code forbids attachment, not sharing rooms. But I would not intrude upon your privacy, Y/N. I’ll meditate in the hallway tonight.” His expression was a combination of deadly seriousness and tranquility.

You gaped at him. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s no problem. I don’t mind meditating all night. In fact, sometimes I feel more refreshed than when I sleep.”

“Not that!” You followed him up the stairs. “Obi-Wan, I’m not going to take the room while you stay out in the hallway like… like my akk dog or something!”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You won’t be,” you assured him. “We can stay in the same room. That is, if it’s okay with you.” A blush had begun to creep up the back of your neck. 

“If it’s alright with you, then,” he said amicably. He didn’t bat an eye at your own chagrin as you finished climbing the stairs and started down the narrow hallway. You held out the key as the two of you reached the door labeled 315, but he didn’t even notice; with a slight wave of his hand, the door unlocked and swung open. 

It was barren. Tan walls, tan floors, tan blankets, and tan furniture. Devoid of dust, you were pleased to see; the Toydarian kept her inn clean. The bed was massive, as promised.

“I hereby declare the bed to be yours,” you said formally, taking off your robe and folding it on the floor. “You’ve done so much for me recently. You deserve it.”

“A Jedi does not crave physical comforts,” Obi-Wan responded. “You’re the Senator. You take it.”

You looked at him obstinately, crossing your arms. “Too late. I’ve already claimed the floor.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “Do you really think that I’d take the bed while you stay the floor? Y/N, it doesn’t bother me. I’ll be perfectly fine down there.”

You ignored him, fluffing your robe as best as you could and sitting down on the dusty floor with your book. He stared at you for several moments before taking off his own robe and sitting in the corner, closing his eyes. 

Meditating. You had never actually seen him meditate. Usually he closed himself off in a separate room where it was peaceful and isolated. It was difficult not to admire him; the utmost stillness that came over him was really fascinating. Afraid that he would sense you watching him, you wrenched your eyes back to your book. A feeling of quiet calmness draped itself over your room; you stayed reading until it was too dark to see the pages anymore, and Obi-Wan stayed in his corner until he sensed you putting your book away. 

Nighttime fell, casting a blessed coolness over the room and muffling the racket of Mos Eisley’s citizens as they returned from the cantinas. Yet the bed remained untouched all night; neither you nor Obi-Wan even sat on it once. You fell asleep on the floor, nestling your head as best as you could on your robe. Obi-Wan laid adjacent to you, in front of the door, four feet away. 

And when you both woke up in the morning, to find that you had both rolled in your sleep to a mere foot from one another — dangerously close to touching — neither of you said a word, instead getting dressed with a diligence far more quick than usual for the early hours of the morning. 

“We’d like to rent two speeders, please. Just for the day.”

The bleary-eyed Toydarian that stared back at you was not nearly as friendly as the Toydarian innkeeper. His forehead was smeared with grease and he wore a lime green top that must have seen better days, for it was ripped at the bottom and stained deep in the armpits. He surveyed Obi-Wan, and then you. 

“Eighty credits,” he decided.

You raised your eyebrows. “With all due respect, sir, the sign outside advertises speeders for fifteen credits each a day.”

“Yeah. For folks on Tatooine. You two are from some ritzy world, I can tell. Pay up or leave.” He outstretched his arm and opened and closed a meaty hand insistently. 

Obi-Wan exhaled quietly. “We don’t have that many credits, but we do have more peggats.”

“Five peggats, then.” The man snapped his fingers rudely. Obi-Wan searched for the demanded price and set it on the counter with irritation. 

“Why didn’t you just mind trick him?” you asked once you had emerged into the dawn-bathed street. 

“Toydarians — as well as Hutts — are inconveniently immune to mind tricks,” he said. “Otherwise I would have.”

“Shall we get going, then?” you asked, starting up your speeder. “How long of a ride do you think it will be?”

“I’d say an hour,” he said. 

It felt almost sacrilegious to use the speeders to leave Mos Eisley. The city was still sleepy, hardly yawning as the first tendrils of the rising suns stroked the rooftops. It was a mellow warmth, the kind that Myrana could only reach midday during its summer. Unfortunately, it would only get much warmer, and even by the time you had gotten comfortable with your speeder — four minutes, maybe five — the wind blowing against your face already felt more hot. 

It was a relief to get out of the choked city. Once on the plateau, you and Obi-Wan were able to increase the speed without needing to worry about pedestrians. Sand billowed out behind as you both sped towards the rusty horizon, with Mos Eisley blurring behind you. 

By evening, you hoped, everything with the Hutts would be resolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so bad because I know some of you were probably expecting more from this chapter!! But I really want to stick to the "slow burn" part of the story and not rush anything. I hope that it was still okay to read, though! Next chapter will probably be longer, too :)
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone who has made it this far into the story, as well as to all of the kind people who have left such amazing reviews!!


	27. Binary Suns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Obi-Wan make your way to Jabba's palace. Unfortunately, it's a hot day.

Trouble, in its usual fashion, seemed to find you and Obi-Wan at its earliest convenience. There was still a horizon of plateau ahead, possibly more, when both of the speeders began to simultaneously sputter, exhaust spewing out of the back. 

“What’s happening?” you shouted over the roaring wind to Obi-Wan. He shook his head, unsure. The speeder bucked again and you were jolted forward as it slowed suddenly. A gaseous fume was now streaming out of the back. Obi-Wan’s was doing the same. 

And then, without warning, the speeders died, yours making one last valiant effort to continue before it shuddered violently. The engine shut off completely and you came to a gliding halt in the binary suns. 

You looked to Obi-Wan, bewildered. “Did we get scammed?”

“It would seem that way.”

“I thought Jedi could detect malice,” you commented, sliding off of your speeder and checking the gas gauge. Sure enough, it was on empty — which was impossible if the Toydarian seller had actually refueled them as promised. 

Obi-Wan only looked at you, disgruntled. “I was focused on making sure there were no immediate threats. And I thought you were going to check the fuel and oil before we left.”

“I was, but then the Toydarian specifically said he fueled them, and I guess I just…”

“Believed him?” Obi-Wan finished. “Well. I hope you like hiking.”

“How close are we to Jabba’s palace?”

Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed. “The better question would be how far we are. I’d say we have several hours of walking.”

“That’s not horrible.”

“On most other planets it wouldn’t be horrible. But we didn’t pack provisions.” He lifted up the single waterskin. It was three quarters full. “We’ll have to conserve this.”

“Do we just leave the speeders here?”

“We’ll have to. I’m sure that was the Toydarian’s plan. Get us stranded in the desert so we’d have to walk back and then he can claim that we stole him. It’s an easy way to get credits.”

“Excellent. So we’ll have to make a quick escape from Mos Eisley, then, before we’re arrested,” you surmised. 

Obi-Wan offered the water to you. “Would you like some now?”

“I’ll hold off. Let’s get some of the walk done,” you told him, and began walking. 

The plateau was a rusty landscape that drew in the heat and kept it near the ground. Your feet felt like they were boiling in your shoes and it took only ten minutes for your tongue to be more dry than the surrounding sand. There was no breeze whatsoever — the air was deadly still, making each breath as unpalatable as breathing in smoke. It wasn’t long before you began to feel slightly nauseous and your breaths got shorter. You and Obi-Wan were the only things moving out in the plateau, like two lone souls in an empty graveyard; even the womp rats were hiding from the suns. 

“See that?” Obi-Wan pointed ahead to a distant butte rising into the air. “I believe that’s where the land gets more steep. We’re going to turn there and start to go a bit more east.”

“Would it be faster to cut through sooner? Rather than making such a sharp turn?”

“Yes. It would also lead us straight through a Tusken raider camp.” Obi-Wan handed you the waterskin. “You should have some.”

You obliged, taking a small sip and then offering it to him. He shook his head. “I’m good for now. You can have more of it.”

Your lips felt more cracked than the plateau you were walking across, but you declined. There was no way that you’d drink more before Obi-Wan even had one sip — not unless you wanted to look like a thirsty child. You screwed the cap back on and clutched it tightly as you resumed walking and the suns rose only higher in the sky. 

The cloaks gave some relief from the sun. You couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be without the shade of your hood. Your hands, the only exposed part of your skin, were already burnt bright red, and without the cloak your skin would doubtlessly be peeling and turning a deep crimson. But the downside was that the cloak, despite its airy material, was only trapping heat, and you felt your muscles protesting at every moment. 

By the time you and Obi-Wan began to head east at the butte, it was just reaching midday. “You want some water now?” you asked, hoping desperately he would accept. 

But he only responded in that kriffing composed voice, “I’m good for now, thank you.” 

Blast it. You could feel the water sloshing in the skin. It would be rude to drink more, wouldn’t it, since he hadn’t had any yet? Your dry throat said no, it was perfectly acceptable to drink more, but the small, coherent voice in your mind that hadn’t yet been melted away by the heat protested that it would be impolite. So you struggled onward, trying to match Obi-Wan’s pace, your head spinning. 

Until a half an hour later. You halted suddenly, the nausea swelling at the heat. It was difficult to tell what was worse — the throbbing headache stabbing in your temples, the sick feeling in your chest, or the blistering pain that was emanating from every muscle in your body. 

Obi-Wan turned to you suddenly, like a probe droid sensing motion. “You need water.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, but your ears were ringing and your voice sounded distant, even to you, as though you were hearing it from a separate room. The bright landscape was suddenly tunneling in, with black creeping in your peripheral vision. Finally your legs betrayed you; it was as though the plateau suddenly tilted and gravity tipped you sideways into the edges of black. 

You came to a minute later, from what you could tell. The suns were still shining in the same spot in the sky; the only difference was now Obi-Wan was glaring at you. 

“I’m fine,” you said automatically, but the words felt like rocks in your mouth. 

“You’re severely dehydrated.” His tone was dark, and you cringed at the anger palpably rolling off of him; it was so unlike the Jedi tranquility you had come to know. “Why haven’t you had more water?” 

“I don’t need any.” You started to struggle upwards, and Obi-Wan easily helped you sit up with gentle hands much unlike the displeasure in his voice. “I’m sorry,” you added weakly, feeling more like an inconvenience than ever.

His hands released your shoulders and he looked directly at you, blue eyes raging like the oceans of Kamino. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I’m fine,” you said yet again. 

“Drink,” he ordered. He unscrewed the water skin and handed it to you.

“I don’t want… I’m really good. Don’t worry. You have the water.” 

“Y/N, you passed out. Don’t tell me you’re fine.” He forced the water into your hand. 

Now his wrath was beginning to unnerve you. “But you weren’t having water. I don’t want to waste all of it,” you said thickly. 

His eyebrows raised. “The Force helps me to stay cool!”  
You didn’t have the energy to answer. Bile was rising in your throat and you felt horribly sick, as though you might pass out again any moment. Obi-Wan seemed to notice and his expression softened as he took your hand. 

“Take a deep breath,” he said. “Focus on the air around you.”

“The… air?” 

“Release your anxieties.”

“Obi-Wan, I’m not a Jedi.”

“Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean that the Force doesn’t exist for you.” He tightened his grip on your hand and, with an invisible surge so pure, so clean, so unsullied that it made you draw in a sharp breath, energy ebbed between you. Almost immediately the dizziness subsided, the boiling heat became more of a lukewarm pool of sunshine, and the muddied thoughts racing in your head calmed and cleared. 

“Is this the Force?” you whispered, unsure if it was blasphemous to speak aloud and disrupt this moment of raw tranquility. 

“It is. I’m just directing it around you.” His tone was very matter-of-fact, as though he were doing no more than opening up the door for you.

“It’s… ethereal.” You gazed in wonder at the air around you, half-expecting to see a myriad of colors dancing through the air or perhaps golden prisms of light shimmering, because surely something so beautiful must also be visible — but the Tatooine landscape appeared the same, hazy and rusty. “Obi-Wan,” you breathed out. “How can you even focus each day when… when this is all at your fingertips?”

He smiled. “The Force isn’t at my fingertips; it’s the other way around. I’m a mere servant of it.”   
He slowly loosened his grip on your hand, and gradually the iridescence around you faded, like a drifting dream that you couldn’t get ahold of no matter how desperately your fingers scrabbled at its edges. You wanted to protest, but some part of your consciousness deep down forced you to accept Obi-Wan’s release as he stood up. The suns glowed behind him and created a red-tinged halo around his head as he helped you up. 

“Feel better?” he asked. 

“I feel… exquisite,” you admitted. 

He laughed. “I’ve directed the Force towards people before. Usually they sense it as though through a window or underwater. Never as openly or clearly as you did. Your soul has a natural attraction to it.”

“Does that mean I can learn to use the Force?” you asked hopefully, even though you were sure of the answer. 

“Force-sensitive is different from being conducive to the Force,” he said. “If you were, though — I think you’d make an excellent Jedi.”

You looked down, embarrassed. “I just passed out from the stupid heat. And all because I didn’t want to drink the majority of the water. That doesn’t exactly sound like Jedi prowess.”

Obi-Wan frowned at this, some of his former irritation returning. “Yes. Don’t do that again. You scared me.”

“If passing out unnerves the great Obi-Wan Kenobi, perhaps I’ll make it my personal goal to do it more often,” you teased, walking with much more lightness in your step now that Obi-Wan had directed the healing Force energies towards you. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind a Force bath each day.”

“A Force bath?” Incredulity crossed his face, followed by amusement. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone more intriguing to be with than you, Y/N. I’m glad you came with me here.”

You nodded at the distance, to where Jabba’s palace was finally visible. “Well, I’m sure you are. Because you’re about to get your own personal slave.”

“Ah. I assure you that I’m not exactly eager for this.”

“Then why am I the one that—?”

“The Hutts haven’t exactly been your friend recently. Best to keep your identity as inconspicuous as possible.”

“Have you met Jabba before?”

“Yes. I negotiated with him while Anakin and Ahsoka completed their first mission as Master and Padawan together.”

You kicked at a nearby rock and sent it skidding across the plateau. “Then this whole plan could fall apart. He might recognize you, and if he does, then he’ll know I’m a fraud, too. The Jedi are vehemently opposed to slavery.”

“It was years ago,” Obi-Wan said dismissively. “Jabba gets quite a few visitors to his palace, from bounty hunters to smugglers. I doubt he’ll be able to place me, even if he recognizes me.”

“I hope so.” You shielded your eyes from the suns to get a better look at the palace looming in the distance. So many factors depended on “ifs”... factors that could be life-or-death. You glanced sideways at Obi-Wan, and the metal glinting off of his lightsaber caught your eye. He was powerful, more powerful than anyone you’d ever met, but still human. Jabba’s palace could even be life-or-death for a Jedi, you realized with a terrifying jolt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly not pleased with the writing of this chapter. It feels lackluster and corny, so I apologize for that. I'm hoping the next chapter will come out better; until then, hopefully this is sufficient!!


	28. The Kitchens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have to assume your role as a slave in the kitchens of Jabba's palace — but where there's people, there's always gossip to overhear.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting. “Palace” had a certain connotation to it that made you envision gleaming ivory steeples, bathed in the golden sunlight. Perhaps an oasis surrounded the palace, and maybe even the wind blew here. At the very least you were sure that the interior of the palace would be emblazoned with luxurious items, symbolic of the Hutts’ wealth — silver plates, ornate architecture, and all sorts of foods and beverages available. 

So it was a rather shocking feeling to walk into Jabba’s palace and see that only your last prediction had come true. There was food, certainly, and all kinds of drinks, but aside from that it was the opposite of what you had expected. The cave-like tunnels were dripping with slime and the air was smoky. Slave girls milled about, their faces downcast and meek. You pulled your own hood up higher, afraid that someone would look at you, but no one gave you a second glance. All it took was a demure posture and quick steps behind Obi-Wan to signify that you were of a lesser status. 

“May I speak with Jabba?” Obi-Wan asked one of the guards once you had reached a set of stairs. The guard grunted in response, and the droid next to him promptly translated. 

“The Great Jabba is not here currently. He is on a business mission to Nal Hutta.”

Obi-Wan stirred in front of you. “When is he due to return?”

More grunts were emitted from the guard. 

“In one standard week,” the droid clarified. “What is your business with the Great Jabba?”

You kept still, though your stomach churned at the droid’s words. You and Obi-Wan had expected to assume these aliases only for one night, not for a week. But he didn’t miss a beat, and showed the droid a blaster — your blaster that you gave him for your aliases outside of the palace before entering. “I want to be employed as a bounty hunter. As payment for Jabba’s hospitality, I am offering my slave as a cook in the kitchens. I can vouch for her skills,” Obi-Wan said. 

It was strange to hear him speak. His usually polished Coruscanti accent was gone, replaced with a harsh, guttural tone similar to one from Dathomir. If you hadn’t known that Obi-Wan Kenobi was in front of you, you would never have guessed that it was him. It was a bit upsetting to hear him speak, if you were being honest with yourself. You shivered slightly and drew your cloak around yourself tighter. 

“Good. I shall inform the head cook. Jabba will be quite pleased, as the food here has been lacking,” the droid said, with a humanistic sniff of its metal nose. “Are you staying in Mos Eisley?”

You waited curiously for Obi-Wan’s answer. It had been expected that you would be in-and-out tonight, but now that Jabba wasn’t even on the planet… 

“I expect that my slave’s culinary skills will buy me a bed here,” Obi-Wan said, his tone so arrogant and repulsive that you were torn between admiring his acting skills and despising the role that he was assuming. 

“If she proves to be useful,” the droid allowed. “Room 254 is empty on the second floor. It’s yours.”

No key. No physical payment. The Huttese etiquette was bewildering. Obi-Wan swept past the droid, towards the stairs that led upwards, and you made to follow, but the guard grunted and put a meaty arm in front of you. 

“No slaves permitted upstairs,” the droid translated. “Your place is in the kitchen, girl.”

You made brief eye contact with Obi-Wan. This had been the plan, but now that it was unfolding, it was much more terrifying than you had anticipated. For a moment there was a gaze of understanding from him, but not before his face became cold. 

“You heard the droid,” he said, and turned away. 

Stars. He was really convincing. You had to remind yourself that he was acting, and wasn’t actually mad at you as you forced yourself to listen to the droid’s instructions. Down the stairs, into the basement, first door on the left. You obeyed, curtseying quickly and then hurrying away. 

“You’re on dishes.”

A large human woman who mercifully wasn’t speaking Huttese jabbed her thumb towards the back of the kitchen. You tentatively peered behind her. The kitchen was even darker than the upper levels of Jabba’s palace, which you found highly disturbing — preparing food while hardly being able to see it seemed like a recipe for a disgusting meal. But you said nothing and made your way to the back of the kitchen, narrowly dodging a young female Hutt who was barking at a smaller slave boy to hurry with the soup. 

There were several other people busy at the sinks, their forearms deep in brown water. 

“Is there soap?” you asked the young man next to you. He was bony, with a pointed nose and light fur growing across his face. You weren’t entirely sure what race he was, but had a vague sense he was from a planet on the far end of the Outer Rim. 

“Echuta,” he spat at you.

You flinched at the anger with which he spoke to you, but stood your ground. “This water is nasty. Surely this can’t be hygienic.”

“Are you a Hutt?” he demanded, pausing and removing his hands from the murky water. It was tempting to look up and meet his eyes, but you kept your gaze lowered and watched the brown droplets run down his hand, dripping onto the floor. 

“No,” you said meekly. Obi-Wan had advised against getting anyone’s attention. What a terrific way to start, you realized, abashed.

“Then learn your place,” he said, stabbing a finger at you. “The only people who ask questions around here are Hutts. Anyone else is bantha fodder.”

You wrinkled your nose and stared at the water. Putting the dishes in that sink would doubtlessly make them dirtier than before submerging them. But, on second thought, you took a plate from the dirty stack and dipped it into the water. What did it matter to you if hygiene wasn’t a priority here? These were the people, after all, responsible for the recent assassination attempts on your life. You wiped at the plate half-heartedly and placed it with the other finished plates on the shelf. 

A week. That was only a bit longer than you had originally expected, you tried to tell yourself. You spent the entire afternoon picking up dirty plates, rinsing them in equally dirty water, and then stacking them again on the shelf. It was mundane and stiflingly warm — fortunately, there was clean water available for drinking — but the worst part was the company. Not a single worker in the kitchens had proven themselves friendly. You had hoped for some sort of sympathy when the young female Hutt slithered into you, subsequently knocking the stack of dishes you were holding onto the floor, but there was none at all. The dishes had splintered into a thousand pieces, skittering underneath the sinks, and all you had earned was a slap across the face from the Hutt in charge and dirty looks from the other workers in the kitchen. Cheeks burning, you had returned to your work, hoping bitterly that Obi-Wan’s experience was going better than yours. 

It wasn’t until the suns were setting and the final round of late night dinner dishes were being sent to the kitchens that something of interest finally happened. You wouldn’t have even paid attention had the two workers behind you not chosen to switch out of Huttese, but upon recognizing and understanding their words, you listened intently. 

“Four more weeks of this,” a man said, his voice low and gruff. “Four kriffin’ weeks and we’re out.”

“Don’t be so confident. If they don’t pull through with those credits, we’re going to be here at least another year.” The person responding was a woman, her voice equally gritty. 

“Come on. You trust Nova, don’t you? She told me that they found minerals worth millions of credits on Yrow. That’ll buy us a home on Alderaan.”

You stopped scrubbing, your stomach dropping at the name of Yrow. 

“Plus, if Yrow falls through, we’ve still got some of the other minor planets in Myrana’s system to hope for. We invested too much to think negatively about this.”

“Yeah, but that Senator is getting all those planets to join the Republic,” the woman countered. “We could easily lose our investment.”

“We won’t,” the man insisted. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll contact Nova tomorrow. Maybe she’ll have an update on Yrow’s profits.”

But you couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation, because the worker next to you began draining the sink and a monstrous rattling blocked out all other sounds as the water — which was now nearly black — slowly dwindled. 

It took until an hour before dawn for Jabba’s palace to empty out. Music had stayed playing into the early hours of the morning, and as aggravating as it was, it was also the only thing that kept you awake as you waited for a chance to go upstairs unseen. All of the slaves were given a singular mat and slept in one large room, so you had situated yourself near the exit to leave without being seen. 

The palace was almost eerie when it was silent. You made your way up the stairs, where there was a singular guard, as you had anticipated. 

You thanked the stars that Obi-Wan wasn’t here to see what you were about to do and then peeled back your hood, letting your hair cascade down your shoulders, which you had purposefully left bare by pulling your sleeves down. The guard noticed you immediately, releasing a primitive grunt that could mean a hundred different things. You sashayed forward, immensely glad that the darkness was hiding the color of your cheeks; surely your blush would have betrayed you in daylight. 

“I wish to visit… my lover,” you announced to him. “I demand you let me through.”

He grunted again, squinting at you with what you thought was suspicion. 

“Now,” you added. If only you had Force persuasion. 

He grunted several more times, keeping his spear blocking the stairs. You sighed and leaned in. “I’m an important person,” you said, keeping your chin high. “And if you don’t let me through, I’ll inform Jabba that you gave me — his mistress — trouble.” The lies coming out of your own mouth made you blush even harder, but the guard gave a more panicked snort and stepped aside, leaving the stairs open. 

“Thank you,” you told him coldly, and dashed up the stairs while drawing your sleeves back up and your hood over your face. 

Never again would this happen. Next time, you would get to be the bounty hunter and Obi-Wan could have the miserable alias. 

There was no need to knock on Obi-Wan’s door. You had moved through the hallway silently, and your fist was still two feet away from gently tapping on the door when it opened. Obi-Wan stood there, still dressed except for his robe and boots.

“I sensed you coming,” he said, beckoning you inside. “How’d you get past the guard?”

“Nevermind,” you said hastily, stepping through and taking off your hood. Obi-Wan gave you a once-over, as though checking to see if you were alright — a tiny detail that made you glow inside. “But I have information.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Really? On how to best prepare Huttese cuisine?”

You scoffed. “Not funny, Obi-Wan. And I was washing dishes, not cooking.”

“Ah. That must have been an illuminating experience.”

“That’s one way to put it. But I overheard something about Yrow.” You explained to him everything that you had heard, even though it still didn’t make sense — why would people on Tatooine care about Yrow? — and Obi-Wan scrubbed a hand over his chin. 

“I’ve a vague idea about what they might be planning,” he said slowly. “I could be wrong, but—”

A sudden knock on the door made you freeze. Obi-Wan himself looked startled; apparently he hadn’t noticed someone coming. 

“Put your hood back on,” he whispered, and then quickly put a hand on your shoulder. “Forgive me if we must play our aliases we have created.” With that he was at the door and opening it, and a young woman, with a belt full of blasters and knives attached, walked in without any invitation. 

“New bounty hunter, are you?” she asked, and her eyes flitted to you before landing again on Obi-Wan. 

“New on Tatooine. Not new to the job,” Obi-Wan responded, his voice automatically in the deeper, grittier accent that sounded so unwelcome to your ears.

The woman standing in the doorway put a hand on her hip. “Then you’re not wanted here. New competition usually gets weeded out quickly. Is that your slave?”

The question caught you off guard. You didn’t answer and kept your head bowed. 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said after a moment.

“Hm. Slaves aren’t allowed up here.” 

“I ordered her to come up here and bring me water,” Obi-Wan said shortly. “She was just returning to the kitchens, as a matter of fact.”

He looked at you pointedly, with the same gaze of hatred that he had performed earlier. It was much too convincing, and you hoped that he was receiving some of your irritation through the Force. Without letting your annoyance show, however, you curtseyed to him, and quickly moved to leave — but the other bounty hunter stopped you. 

“No,” she said. “Go get us some snacks and beverages. I want to talk to your master.”

Heart racing, you curtseyed again politely, and continued down the stairs with a sense of dread. Whoever this bounty hunter was surely wasn’t going to make things easier.


	29. Beyond the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brief recap (because it's been so long since I've updated this story):  
> Obi-Wan and Y/N are on a mission to apprehend Jabba on Tatooine after discovering that the assassins sent to kill Y/N were all working for him. Y/N has taken on the alias of a slave, and Obi-Wan as a bounty hunter, to meet with Jabba and determine why he is trying to kill her. Now, another bounty hunter has entered Obi-Wan's quarters while Y/N is in there.

“That’s enough.” The woman raised an impatient hand at you as you poured her water. She didn’t even bother looking at you, so you stepped back into the shadows, keeping your head down. 

Until Obi-Wan snapped his fingers at you. 

“Open the windows. It’s warm in here,” he directed you, not a trace of his warmth on his face. You curtsied and obeyed immediately. 

“I don’t think you understand how inundated Tatooine is with bounty hunters right now,” the woman said. “Why should Jabba take you on? Give me a good reason not to shoot you on the spot.”

Obi-Wan ignored her question. “I take it the competition is a bit rough.”

“That’s an understatement.”

They continued talking but you couldn’t hear as you moved to the back of the room and slid the creaky window open. A lovely cool breeze drifted in, courtesy of the desert night. It was a welcome relief from the temperature earlier. 

“You.” Obi-Wan’s voice cut across the room. You wheeled about attentively, placing your hands behind your back. “Prepare us bread. With bantha milk butter. And muja oil.”

“Yes, master,” you said, squinting at him minutely to convey your confusion. Either he was taking the role too far out of bad judgement or this was becoming a game to him. And because you’d already seen his superb acting skills, you were willing to bet it was the latter. 

Your guess was further confirmed when you returned with the tray of bread and butter and Obi-Wan looked at it with repulsion. 

“Where’s the salt?” he demanded. “And I want the bread sliced, you gundark, not sitting here as a full loaf. Go fix it. Now!”

Your jaw drifted open slightly, and that was when Obi-Wan’s eyes betrayed him; the slightest glint of mischief twinkled back at you. “Hurry up,” he added, the snap of his voice completely unlike his usual tone.

Well. Two could play at this game. 

You returned with the bread sliced, as well as a cup full of muja oil. 

“I hope this satisfies your desires, master,” you said, setting a plate of sliced bread on the table and purposefully knocking the muja oil cup over with your wrist. Rich yellow oil tumbled downward, right across Obi-Wan’s chest, and it took all of your effort to not laugh as he instinctively raised his right hand — as though to catch the cup with the Force — but then thought better of it and let the oil spill across him. 

“Oh, stars!” you said, feigning mortification. “I’m terribly sorry, master, I never intended to—”

“Quite the clumsy slave,” the bounty hunter observed. “Could we possibly finish our conversation? Without this one here interrupting?”

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. “Do you need me to clean up?”

“Obviously,” Obi-Wan said, and his hand caught your wrist before you could move away to get towels. Goosebumps prickled up your arms; it was rare Obi-Wan made any physical contact with you. “And do my laundry, including all of my cloaks, robes, and blankets. That ought to rectify your clumsiness.” 

That kriffing Jedi. He knew he had won, too, by the smirk that crossed his face just as the bounty hunter across from him looked down, distracted by the bread. You waited until he released your wrist and then curtsied again. 

“Yes, master.”

By the time you returned to the room, with the laundry clean, dried, and folded, the bounty hunter had left, much to your satisfaction. 

“Here’s your stupid laundry,” you said, dropping the piles haphazardly onto the bed. “Do you know how long that took me?”

“Judging by the clock, I’d say about two hours.”

“And now it’s only an hour until dawn,” you continued. “I hope you’re happy with yourself as you get to relax all day, knowing that I’m in the kitchen scrubbing dirty dishes.”

“And I hope you’re happy with yourself having had the opportunity to toss muja oil all over me.”

“Yes,” you admitted. “It was the most fun I’ve had in awhile.”

He laughed. “Truce?”

“I still think I have the short end of the rancor bramble.”

“Fair enough. I’ll make it up to you once we’re off-planet, alright?” He took one of the tunics you had just washed and went into the ‘fresher. When he returned, the oil-stained tunic was gone, replaced with a new cream one. 

“I take it you and the bounty hunter came to an agreement, considering you don’t have a blaster wound in your chest,” you commented, crossing your arms. Obi-Wan went to the window thoughtfully and leaned on the rim. The breeze rustled his beard softly and moonlight illuminated his features in a pale glow. 

“Yes. In fact, I managed to secure a meeting with Jabba through her. She agreed to introduce me as a trustworthy bounty hunter. I think that the conversation with Jabba is much more likely to be successful now.”

“Okay,” you said warily. “So we have a better shot at finding out why Jabba’s employing these assassins against me. But what did she want in exchange?”

“I offered some credits.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “That doesn’t sound like enough to convince her. She seemed angry to me. What else did you promise?”

“Only something that I won’t give her,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Come on. What did you promise?”

He relented. “I might have offered my slave as a gift.”

“Obi-Wan!”

“After the conversation with Jabba, of course,” he said. “We’ll escape before then.”

“I hope so. Or I’ll tell the Jedi Order that you sold a senator to a bounty hunter as a slave,” you said, grinning despite your indignance.

“I promise I won’t leave without you,” he assured you. “Now, we’ve just got to get through this week, until Jabba returns.”

The moonlight was shrouded as a cloud passed overhead, obscuring the night sky into one large, black mass. Only one candle was lit in the sitting area, and you could barely make out Obi-Wan’s silhouette as he leaned against the windowsill.

Unexpected nerves crawled up your spine, and without any reason at all you felt your heartbeat pick up. Afraid that Obi-Wan would be able to sense your anxiety, you turned away, taking a deep breath, but not before he noticed. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you said hastily. You turned around again to face him, even though the shadows were too inky to make out any of his features. “I’m just… glad to be here.”

“I’m glad you’re here as well,” Obi-Wan said, and wordlessly he took a step near you, so close that the edges of his cloak brushed against your legs. A mixture of panic and transfixion overcame you; it didn’t help that the cloud passed and now silver moonlight cascaded across Obi-Wan’s face. He drew in even closer and the hilt of his ‘saber was now cold against your side. 

“If your ‘saber accidentally ignited, would my leg get skewered?” was all you could think to say. You blushed deeply the next moment. Stars, why had you asked that? But a smile crossed Obi-Wan’s face.

“It won’t ignite,” he assured you, and he lifted up a calloused hand to brush your face. A moment ago your heart had been racing; now, you were positive that it had halted altogether. “Y/N, I want to take you beyond the stars. Once this mission is over, you and I. There are thousands of uncharted planets and worlds.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “But won’t you have to return to your Jedi duties?” you whispered, fearing that speaking aloud would shatter the ethereal serenity that seemed to hush the world itself. 

Obi-Wan’s hand dropped from your face and he turned to the open window. You shifted with him and found yourself leaning against him. He was strong, warm, and a sense of security like you had never felt before settled through. 

“The maps of the Order are outdated,” he said finally. “We would be doing them a favor. But that’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” You felt dazed, as though you were viewing the world through a telescope. 

“You are.” He drew you in closer. “Y/N, you and I, beyond the stars. That’s the point.”

Silence fell. The dark sky above was just beginning to tinge pink over the far horizon as the first of the two suns began to make its arrival known. Not a word more was said. 

And when you left for the kitchens again, an hour later, Obi-Wan had bid you farewell diplomatically, and you had smiled politely at him, and left with your heart pounding and thoughts muddled. What had happened in the early morning was not discussed, and you departed as nothing more than close friends that were both unsure of how to address the electric serenity that had been so alive only an hour earlier. But you found yourself waiting for Jabba to return with a rosy view of everything for the remainder of the week, including even the dirtiest dishes you had to scrub with the gray sponges of the palace kitchens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the slow updates. And I feel like my quality of writing is declining, which is really discouraging. I just feel so pressed for time and it's so hard to make decent, timely updates while doing college at the same time. I feel very bad about how this chapter came out but I hope that it was satisfying nonetheless.


	30. Dust and Grit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan shows you how to use his lightsaber before the final confrontation with Jabba — which doesn't go as smoothly as planned.

“Tomorrow. Just after sunrise.” Obi-Wan slipped his robe off of his shoulders and distractedly tossed it onto a chair. 

“That’s excellent,” you said, pleased. “I’ve seen enough Huttese dishes to last me a lifetime.” You were sitting primly on the couch of Obi-Wan’s quarters, feeling clean for the first time in a while. It had been several days since you had seen him — chores in the kitchens took up all of your time from dawn until dusk — and sneaking up to the room wasn’t exactly easy, either. Needless to say, a shower had been the first thing on your mind when you were finally able to get up to his quarters again. And now with Obi-Wan’s news that he’d arranged through the other bounty hunter a meeting with Jabba the next day, it was officially your most exciting day as a slave in Jabba’s palace yet. 

Obi-Wan frowned. “This mission could still go sideways. Jabba is cleverer than he looks.”

“You think it’ll lead to violence?” you asked. “Because I want to warn you now that I’ll be of little help. I’m not exactly a trained assassin.”

“You’re not a bad shot with a blaster. I’ve seen you.”

“I’m average,” you amended. “But certainly not of any use when you’re up against Jabba and his court of slugs. Of course, maybe after this we could go find a kyber crystal and I could craft a lightsaber of my own. I’m sure the Jedi Order would love me for that.”

“They wouldn’t take it very well,” Obi-Wan confirmed. “But there’s no rules against you touching a lightsaber.” He extended his hand out to you where you sat on the couch. You turned red. 

“I didn’t mean to actually—” you began, mortified, but he shook his head. 

“Really. I want to show you.” He kept his hand out and you had no choice but to take it. Obi-Wan led you into the center of the room and swiftly unhitched his ‘saber from his belt. With a quick spin, its silver hilt flashed in the dim lighting, and then he extended it towards you. Very gingerly you took it, afraid to drop it, or worse, accidentally ignite it. 

“This doesn’t feel right,” you protested once it was in your hand. You kept your arm outstretched; the ‘saber was like a forbidden object in your hand. 

“Well, for one, hold it like this.” Obi-Wan adjusted your fingers gently so that your grip was more natural on the hilt. “Does that feel better?”

“No. I feel like I’m breaking a thousand laws. And I’m scared to break it.”

He laughed. “Y/N, I wouldn’t hand it to you if I didn’t believe you were trustworthy with it. Besides, I promise you this ‘saber has endured much more than a three foot drop to the floor.”

“Now what?” You were beginning to feel anxious with such a deadly weapon in your control. 

“Ignite it. There’s a small button on the side, right there beside your thumb.”

You pushed the ‘saber back at him. “Obi-Wan, this really doesn’t feel right. I’m violating your Jedi secrecy or something. I don’t know.”

“I haven’t taught a Padawan since Anakin. Let me be a teacher,” he implored, and closed your fingers back around the hilt. “Lift it upward so that the blade turns on vertically.”

You obeyed and pointed the end of the ‘saber towards the ceiling. Slowly you hit the button with your thumb, and with an electric hiss the blade sprung to life — sapphire blue glinting brightly, casting an oceanic shade over the Tatooine features of the room. You had to suppress a strange desire to reach out and touch the blinding light. 

“Swing it,” Obi-Wan suggested. Weakly you brought it downward, petrified of dropping it onto your foot or destroying the furniture. 

“You make it look easy,” you admitted. “Holding this is like trying to hold lightning. It’s so intimidating.”

“No one starts on a real ‘saber, though,” he said. “Initiates use training ‘sabers for years. Here. Move your arm diagonally and then downward, like this.” He demonstrated, and then you mirrored him as best as you could whilst hoping dearly that you didn’t look like an utter fool. 

“There you go. That’s called a deflecting slash,” he said. “It’s a common technique in Soresu form.”

You repeated the maneuver. “What’s it intended for?”

“Deflecting blaster bolts.”

“Stars.” The very thought of moving fast enough to deflect incoming blaster bolts with this lethal, burning blade sounded impossible. “I wouldn’t last long as a Jedi.” 

“Not if you’re holding the blade like that,” Obi-Wan agreed. “One blow from an opponent’s ‘saber and the blade will be knocked back into your left shoulder.”

“Oh. Sorry.” You corrected your grip again. “Can you show me the flippy thing that you do?”

His mouth twisted into a smile. “Twirling the blade?”

Your cheeks warmed. “It looks so impressive every time you do it. Nonchalant, I guess.” It was one of your favorite moves Obi-Wan did with his lightsaber — igniting it, and then twirling the hilt in his hand so that the blade arced swiftly through the air in a controlled, expert twist. 

He positioned himself behind you. “I’m going to guide your arms,” he said. “Just in case you drop it.”

“I thought you said your ‘saber could handle being dropped.”

“It can. Your foot, on the other hand, wouldn’t take it so well.” He shifted your arm out to your side and pulled it back slightly. “Okay. Do this with your wrist.”

“I want to warn you right now that it’s not going to look very good when I do it,” you said, already embarrassed at the lack of control in your hands. “Should my elbow be moving this much?”

He adjusted your elbow. “Now it’s better. Keep your grip a bit loose so that the hilt can twirl without your hand having to do too much work.” He moved out of the way. “Now try.”

You quickly spun the lightsaber in your hand. It made a very satisfactory hiss through the air as it twirled. “Did I do it?”

“Quite adroitly.”

“Here.” Smiling, you turned off the lightsaber and handed it back to him. “I’m probably going to sever one of my limbs unintentionally.”

He accepted it and attached it to his belt. “You’re certainly a better student than Anakin. It took a concerning amount of bribery to get him to focus for at least thirty minutes.”

“I can imagine that. He must have... interesting pedagogical methods with Ahsoka.” You realized you had been staring at Obi-Wan for too long and averted your eyes to the floor. “Thank you for showing me that. I mean, your lightsaber is your life. It’s no small matter to me that you entrusted it to my hands. I’m not exactly graceful.”

“You always think so little of yourself,” Obi-Wan said, crossing his arms. “Why?”

The question was unexpected. “I don’t think little of myself. I think of myself realistically.”

“Then your perception of yourself is grossly incorrect.” 

“Oh? Am I even worse than I make myself out to be?” you said dryly, but Obi-Wan’s face remained utterly serious.

“No. You’re much more beautiful than you could ever know, inside and out.” 

Your chest felt taut at his words and you found yourself speechless. Obi-Wan, to your deep surprise, also looked unnerved — if it was possible for a Jedi to be unnerved — and he dipped his head in apology. 

“Excuse me,” he said after a moment. “It’s inappropriate for me to comment—”

“Obi,” you interrupted, wincing at the unintentional nickname. “I want… I mean, without being — sorry.” You took a deep breath, desperate to not mince any more words. “I’ve cared very deeply about you for a long time.”

Obi-Wan’s blue eyes remained impassive, but the room suddenly felt warmer, as though the Force were ablaze with the same lightning that had just been pulsing in the lightsaber. “Do you remember that day you showed me the caves on Myrana? And we stayed on the beach together for hours?”

“Of course.”

“Something changed that day.” Obi-Wan looked at you intently. “I’d always found you fascinating, of course, and talented, and intelligent. But since that day on Myrana… you have meant more to me than anyone else in the galaxy.”

“I…” You bit your lip. “It feels wrong. I want to express to you how I feel. But you’re a Jedi, and attachments are forbidden. I don’t want to jeopardize that for you.” You suddenly felt very out-of-place. This was Master Kenobi, for stars’ sake, the great general of the Clone Wars. Everything about him made you want to stay, and talk longer, and learn more of the Soresu form — but you took a step back to keep a polite distance. “You know that I feel the same, though?”

He scrubbed his hand over his chin. “The Force… communicates feelings through to me,” was all he said.

You smiled weakly. “Well. That’s good, I suppose. I’m not very eloquent when it comes to feelings.”

Silence. Obi-Wan swung the curtain open with a flick of his hand and light streamed into the room. “It’s dawn,” he said, unnecessarily. 

“It is,” you agreed. “We can… you know. Finish this conversation. We’ll have time once we’re on the ship again.” You shifted uncomfortably. “That Hutt in charge is going to lose it if I’m not in the kitchens soon.”

“We’ll be out of here by tonight,” Obi-Wan said, drawing the curtain all the way open. “It won’t be long.”

He was right. The early morning went by quickly despite how anxious you felt. There was nothing more tantalizing than scrubbing at each dish while contemplating how exactly you were going to get upstairs without being caught by the kitchen supervisor. But it was imperative that you were up there in time, because in case Obi-Wan’s conversation ended not quite as diplomatically as he was intending, a quick escape would be necessary. 

But for once in your life luck seemed to be aligned with you. 

“The Great Jabba decided the new Togruta girl served better as a snack for the rancor than as a servant,” one of the supervisors barked at you, fortunately not in Huttese. “Bring that wine upstairs and keep their cups full. And mind that you don’t spill any of it, girl, because that wine is from Alderaan.” This last part was accompanied with a swift cuff to the head. You stumbled forward, fighting the urge to turn around and shoot the Hutt with your blaster. For a slug, they certainly had a lot of strength, you realized bitterly, taking the jug up the steep stairs. 

Jabba’s palace was crowded with dancers, singers, and patrons milling about, either smoking death sticks or lazily watching the entertainment. A smoky haze hung in the air so that it was difficult to see; you appreciated this, because it gave you good cover as you meekly made your way from cup to cup, filling each one silently. 

Obi-Wan was talking to Jabba. The hair rose on your arms when you saw him. It was one thing to be with him alone, and to have his full attention on you. But seeing him in a crowd like this — poised and capable — filled you with a nonsensical pride that you, of all the people in the room, had the pleasure of getting to spend time with him. 

The only downside was that you couldn’t hear what he was saying. From what you could see, Jabba didn’t look particularly happy. Drool was flying from his mouth as he spoke and the translator next to him looked troubled, as though trying to keep up but having difficulty. You craned your neck to see better, and that was when a stiff hand landed on your shoulder. 

“Ah,” the woman behind you said pleasantly. “I thought you might be the slave that I was promised. Your master told you the arrangement, I’m sure.”

You fought to keep your composure and to remember your alias. “My master tells me nothing. I only serve him.”

The bounty hunter snapped her fingers at her cup, and you hurriedly filled it. “Well, you belong to me now. See, he’s gotten his conversation with Jabba — who doesn’t like his time wasted, mind you — and now I get you. See the deal?” She laughed. “I got the better end of it, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, master,” was all you could think to respond.

She wiped at her mouth with her sleeve. “I’ve got a new mission. It’s on Lothal. You’re going to be in charge of keeping my ship clean, got it?”

“Yes, master.”

“Good. Prepare my ship, then. I want to leave in one standard hour.”

Your heart sank. Your chances of making it off Tatooine without any trouble were looking slimmer and slimmer. “Which ship, master?” you asked. 

“The 2U8N4 model. Go. Get out of my way now.”

“Yes, master.” But the ships were in the hangar on the other end of the palace — exactly the direction you didn’t want to be going. You chanced a glance towards Obi-Wan; he was still in deep conversation with Jabba. Hoping desperately that the bounty hunter was too distracted by the singers and dancers to notice, you slipped into the crowd, in the opposite direction where you would be able to escape with Obi-Wan easier. 

But the luck on your side seemed to have betrayed you. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the bounty hunter following you, and you feigned shock when she approached. 

“Master! I’m sorry, I don’t know where the hangar—”

You were stopped abruptly by a slap to the face. “Stupid gundark. I swear, if I’ve been scammed into getting a useless girl for a slave, you’re going to be meeting the butt of my blaster soon. Understand?” She slapped you again. Grimly you kept your head low, a sense of foreboding gathering in your chest. You could hear Jabba shouting something now, and one surreptitious glance at Obi-Wan told you trouble was about to explode. 

And then you saw the Rodian. He was in the shadows, slowly moving closer with his blaster aimed at Obi-Wan’s head. Obi-Wan was still facing Jabba, and had made no indication that he had noticed the danger behind him. 

“Are you listening to me?” Another slap to the face, and your hood fell down with the force of it. Tears were brought to your eyes from the sting and you bent your head low, but the bounty hunter grabbed your chin and lifted your face upward. 

“Hang on,” she said, so imperceptibly that you barely heard her. “I know your face.”

“Master, I’m afraid I’ve never—”

“You’re the Senator!” she said, a wide smile breaking across her face. The show was over, you realized with dread. You spat into her face and wrenched yourself away, grabbing the heavy jug of wine from your forgotten platter. Slipping into the crowd was almost too easy; the haze allowed a quick escape towards the Rodian who was now crouched by the wall, aiming with his blaster towards Obi-Wan. 

“Jabba, I will ask you this once,” Obi-Wan was saying. “Tell me who you’re working for and why you sent the assassins. If you do not cooperate, I will be forced to take action.”

You didn’t hear Jabba’s answer. Approaching the Rodian under the pretense of a servant, you meekly offered the wine to him. He glanced up just in time to see the heavy jug crashing down on his head, and he fell limply to the floor. 

Pandemonium erupted. The guards charged forward and it didn’t take long for them to grab you. No amount of kicking could deter them, and you were dragged backwards. Shouts filled the cavernous room and distantly you could hear Obi-Wan’s ‘saber being ignited. 

“Give her to me!” The bounty hunter’s voice rang out above the chaos and you glanced up in time to be dealt a heavy blow to your head. Your vision tunneled, and everything became muffled in an obscure darkness. Amidst the muffled sounds and high pitched ringing was another voice, shouting distantly as though across but it was doubtlessly Obi-Wan; his smooth accent tinged with fear — an emotion you had yet to witness in him. 

“Y/N!” he shouted, the name echoing through the room. You tried to shout back but the bounty hunter slapped a hand over your mouth. It was greasy and you choked as you inhaled but no air came in; dirt was flying and the acrid smell of alcohol and death sticks was burning your nose. The bounty hunter dragged you roughly away, your legs scraping against the unforgiving floor. 

“Let go of me!” You bit at the bounty hunter and she swore, releasing you momentarily. You took the opportunity to grab her blaster and aim it at her, your hands shaking slightly. 

“You want to play it that way?” she snarled, grabbing from her belt a small bomb. “I’ve still got weapons, Senator.”

“Don’t be stupid!” you said, pulling out your own blaster and aiming it at her as well, with a blaster now in each hand. “You’ll kill all of us.”

“It’s a small bomb,” the woman said, tossing it in the air casually and then catching it. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll come back here and loot some dead bodies after.”

“You’re bluffing.”

She laughed. “No, Senator. I’m merely seeking a profit. Do you know how much Jabba is willing to pay for the person who kills you?” When you didn’t answer, she continued. “Let’s just say it’ll be enough of a profit for me to quit my career as a bounty hunter.”

“I’m flattered,” you said, stepping back. “But if you use that bomb I’m going to shoot you. I’m warning you now.”

“You can try your hardest,” the woman said, and quicker than you could have anticipated she threw the bomb at you. It lodged itself onto your shirt and began beeping instantly, its red eye flashing like a beacon into the haze.

“Y/N!” you heard Obi-Wan yell again. 

Without thinking you ran out of the room, the bounty hunter laughing behind you. There was no telling how much time was left until the bomb went off; waiting even a second later could mean the death of everyone else in the room. Obi-Wan’s voice echoed again behind you but all you could think of was putting as much space in between you as possible. Panic nearly blurred your vision as you dove into a separate room and began to tear the shirt off of yourself, tossing it out the nearby window just as it deployed. 

The explosion shook your teeth and you collided painfully with the cement wall as you fell to the floor. The walls of the palace blew outwards, shrapnel soaring everywhere; you ducked as a large chunk of stone tumbled right where your head had been. 

And then everything came to a standstill. You breathed heavily, picking up your fallen cloak and wrapping it around yourself. The sound of fighting was still coming from down the hallway; there was no time to waste. Despite your pounding head and stinging face you got to your feet, swayed slightly, and then limped back to the main room, where everything seemed to be moving in slow-motion. 

Obi-Wan was at the center of it all. His lightsaber gleamed with rage in the fogged air, spitting fire and hatred like you had never seen before as the Jedi wielded it with disturbing grace to cut down the guards around him. It was a blur of electric blue; a death sentence made of sapphire, screaming its impending slashes as it was twirled expertly through the air, much like you had spun it just that morning. But this was different. Now it was a flurried movement with the intention of death, and anguish, and horror. You stood, rooted to the spot, blinking slowly at the spectacle of slaughter in front of you. 

Obi-Wan’s expression was a contortion of fury and torment. His hair was wildly as he twisted his way through the crowd, cutting down every guard in his path, with not a moment of hesitation. You tried to call out to him but choked on the dusty air, coughing painfully as you inhaled more grit. 

The arc of the ‘saber made its way past the translator, who only had time to protest a vehement mechanical opposition before its head departed from its body. A strangled cry arose in your throat just before the blue ‘saber met Jabba’s shocked face, and Obi-Wan froze, his features softening momentarily from rage to disbelief at the sound. 

“It’s over!” you cried out, taking several steps towards him, your arms raised. “We just need to get out of here!”

He remained motionless, his face draining of color and the ‘saber turning off. 

“Just come with me,” you pleaded. “We need to leave.” You weren’t sure what had come over you but it felt so wrong to see Obi-Wan wielding so much anger, and the thought of him putting his ‘saber through Jabba was something you did not want to see — even if Jabba was the one who had sent the assassins. 

“Y/N,” he said finally, stricken. “I… I heard the bomb. I didn’t sense you. You… I thought—”

“I’m not dead,” you said, reaching out towards him. Jabba was grunting something in Huttese but you both ignored him. “Obi-Wan. Look at me.”

His eyes met yours. Pained, red, stunned. He had truly believed you died, you realized with a jolt. This had been his reaction. It was a revelation that turned your stomach. “I’m okay.”

“Y/N,” he said again, and then he embraced you, squeezing so tightly that you thought you might break a rib. “Stars. I was certain—”

“I’m okay,” you said again, breathing in his scent and relaxing in his embrace. “Obi, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It was my lack of judgement,” he said, his face still very pale. “Stars. I just—”

“Let’s talk about it on the ship,” you said, desperate to leave the room; it was now full of the smell of burnt flesh and cauterized wounds and you felt very close to vomiting. “Please?”

“Yes,” he agreed, somewhat blankly, and slowly he turned with you to leave Jabba’s palace, with not a backwards glance at the Hutt spewing profane curses at them from behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm scared Obi-Wan was too OOC at the end there, but I just wanted to show the emotional bond that he and the reader have forged. Prepare yourself for ~emotional consequences~ in the next chapter. 
> 
> There have been so many kind reviews and I'm feeling better about my writing this week. I want you all to know that I'm just so grateful to have your feedback and you inspire me to write each day - thank you so much!


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